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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27927043">Flower Crown</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twigo/pseuds/Twigo'>Twigo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drama, M/M, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:55:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>29,145</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27927043</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twigo/pseuds/Twigo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. In the boxing world, rivalries can be legendary. Timo and Ludwig have a huge one, if unintentional, having lost only once each, and to the other. It’s come time for a tie-breaker rematch. Ludwig’s jerk of a trainer just wants to get a peek at Timo’s form. Timo’s creepy stalker of a manager just thinks that Ludwig looks a little different in person. Timo and Ludwig just wanna fight and get paid; is that too much to ask? DenFin, SweGer, and healthy amounts of Fin+Ger bromance. (plus a little one-sided SuFin and some past RusGer)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Denmark/Finland (Hetalia), Finland &amp; Germany (Hetalia), Germany/Sweden (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Legacy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A/N : Eh heh heh. I'm sorry.</p><p>Warnings! : AU. Human characters. DenFin, SweGer, in equal proportions. Some one-sided SuFin and past RusGer. A good amount of Fin+Ger bromance. Violence, language, minor drug use, etc. Same old, same old from me. Nothing new. Expect slower updates on this one.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>FLOWER CROWN</strong>
</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Chapter 1</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Legacy</strong>
</p><p>Timo had won every single possible prize in the middleweight boxing world, at least once.</p><p>He wasn't vain enough to call himself a legend, nor did he need to; other people did that for him. In Finland, Timo was practically a celebrity, and most boxing fans came up to him to ask for an autograph. Timo didn't care much for the public eye, and stayed in the shadows as best he could.</p><p>The only time he loved the lights and glamour was in the ring, because that was where he was happiest.</p><p>The greatest joy of his life was boxing. He had started at ten, as a pastime with his father, and when he had fallen in love with it, he aimed to do it professionally. At fifteen, he began competing, and took on the middleweight world the day he turned eighteen.</p><p>As Timo's skill increased, his bookings expanded.</p><p>When Timo boxed outside of Finland for the first time, it felt as if the entire world had bowed to him in some way. Felt invincible, incredible, king of the mountain.</p><p>Well—woulda been better had anyone been able to pronounce his damn name.</p><p>Väinämöinen.</p><p>Christ almighty, was that so damn hard? Timo was lucky enough to be named after a mythological hero, and the outside world butchered his heritage. Announcers stammered helplessly, in country after country, time after time, and after Timo's fifth fight outside of Finland, his trainer had come up to him and said, 'We need a nickname for you.'</p><p>No kidding.</p><p>Timo didn't get to think up a cool or badass nickname for himself, unfortunately, because the papers had gotten to it first and merely called him 'The Finn'.</p><p>After a while, it stuck, and Timo was known in the boxing world as simply 'Finn'. He hated it, intensely, but begrudgingly accepted it because he <em>was </em>a Finn, and anytime that someone remembered Finland existed was a good day indeed.</p><p>Timo blazed through the ranks, rose up in glory, and was undefeated.</p><p>Except for that one time.</p><p>In the ring, Timo was a legend, and had left a lasting impression.</p><p>Outside of boxing, however, Timo's life was rather uneventful. Boring. Dull. Timo was boring and dull, so he supposed that made quite a bit of sense. He didn't have much of a social life, had very few people in his circle, and was pretty happy that way. He had lovers on and off, but his relationships never seemed to last more than a year at most. A scarce handful of friends.</p><p>He had much worse luck in love than he did in the ring.</p><p>In fact, Timo had only two constant men in his life, and felt very differently about them.</p><p>The first was his manager, Berwald.</p><p>A tall, surly, slow Swede, who had taken over Timo's career about four years ago. Timo had disliked Berwald from the very first moment he had laid eyes upon that big bastard. And not because he was Swedish. Really! Really. Just—you know, did he <em>have </em>to be Swedish? How the hell had that even happened? Timo couldn't remember, really, but it was highly distasteful. Not that he was prejudiced against Swedes or anything.</p><p>Really.</p><p>...didn't like Swedes, though. Off the record.</p><p>But Berwald was a special specimen, and brought out levels of annoyance and resentment that Timo hadn't thought were actually possible for him to feel, being unfamiliar with potent emotions.</p><p>Berwald was a creep, plain and simple. Timo couldn't stand him, absolutely detested everything about him, and he didn't really even know <em>why</em> because he supposed in the grander scheme of things Berwald was actually quite inoffensive. He rarely spoke, was slow and quiet and serious, professional, efficient, punctual, and quite good at managing everything that Timo needed.</p><p>But he was just...</p><p><em> Creepy</em>.</p><p>Berwald was a huge guy, a retired heavyweight a few years older than Timo, and Timo didn't know if maybe he had just taken one too many blows to the head, because Berwald just <em>stared </em>at Timo. Stared and stared and stared at him, until Timo was squirming and unnerved, and then when Timo told him to knock it off Berwald glanced away for a nanosecond and then stared some more. As if Berwald's brain were malfunctioning and so he just stared in a straight line. Did Berwald even blink? Had never been stared at as hard as he was by Berwald. Made him shudder.</p><p>Timo couldn't <em>stand</em> him.</p><p>Making eye contact with people was bad enough, but being stared at by Berwald made him feel like he was being quite literally dissected. Berwald needed to respect that Timo was Finnish and therefore holding eye contact with someone he didn't like was intensely uncomfortable.</p><p>Inhumane.</p><p>And in those rare moments that Berwald did actually open his mouth and speak, it was almost worse. His voice was so gruff and his speech so clipped that half of the time Timo couldn't understand what the hell the bastard was even saying. When he did understand <em>was</em> worse, because most of the time Berwald was gushing over him.</p><p>'Ya did real good up there today.'</p><p>'Ya keep gettin' better and better, really.'</p><p>'Protect yer face more, ya don't want it gettin' messed up, yer too handsome for that.'</p><p>Yikes.</p><p>Berwald was Timo's biggest fangirl, it seemed, and Timo supposed he should have been flattered, but he wasn't. He woulda rather run Berwald over with his car than ever have Berwald clap a heavy hand down on his shoulder. Made him shudder every time Berwald touched him, every time Berwald leaned in to speak to him. If you could call Berwald tossing out random words in his thick, country bumpkin accent speaking. That was being generous.</p><p>Timo was about eighty-five percent certain that Berwald was in love with him. The other fifteen percent he reserved for the possibility that Berwald's brain had just gotten broken in the ring along with his nose. Timo would have been more inclined to give Berwald the time of day had Berwald ticked off the boxes of being 'not Swedish', 'more handsome', and 'less creepy'. But he didn't tick a single damn one, and so here they were. Timo wasn't an asshole, nah, but he was a human, and perfectly imperfect, and Berwald just didn't do it for him.</p><p>In any sense.</p><p>Timo couldn't wait until he fell under new management.</p><p>The second constant man in Timo's life was another boxer.</p><p>Timo had a sublime record, and had only ever lost one time in his life. That one time, figured, was to his greatest 'rival'.</p><p>Ludwig Beilschmidt.</p><p>Ludwig was a young German, who had shot up in fame and reputation as quickly as Timo had. Like Timo, Ludwig had only ever lost once.</p><p>Ludwig was something else.</p><p>Very pale, white as could be, with platinum hair and icy blue eyes. Very intimidating and frosty at a glance. Sharp features. Ludwig looked like some villain out of a bad American action movie, and his eyes coulda cut glass. Looked unshakeable, emotionless, stoic and cold and hard. Timo would never forget the thrill that he had felt standing before that man for the first time. Had never seen anyone quite like Ludwig, and something about him seemed to freeze his opponents in place. Didn't help that Ludwig was a bleeder. His pale skin was much less hard than he was, and he bruised and cut very easily, leaving him a bloody mess after even the lightest of matches. But that worked to Ludwig's advantage, because it made him look so much more frightening after victory, the bright red of his blood contrasting so starkly with his milky skin and blue eyes.</p><p>Timo fangirled from time to time over Ludwig, as much as he had ever accused Berwald of fangirling over him. Watched every single one of his matches on the television, without fail. Admired him greatly, loved every move he made, and was always fascinated.</p><p>As the papers had christened Timo as 'Finn', so too had Ludwig been given the less-than-intimidating nickname of 'Blondie.' The papers weren't exactly creative, but Timo could never say they weren't accurate. Timo was indeed Finnish and Ludwig was indeed very blond. So. There was that.</p><p>Wished it had been more dramatic, perhaps, because having his only loss coming from a man named Blondie wasn't exactly...fitting. More than that, Timo had lost to Ludwig the very first time they had ever fought. Ludwig was green then still, eighteen and new to the professional scene. Timo had been twenty-seven, seasoned, unbeaten. Losing to Ludwig had been extremely humiliating. Going twelve rounds with that pale bastard of a kid only to have the judges hand a victory over to Ludwig, who in defeating Timo had claimed the middleweight championship belt.</p><p>Getting pummeled senseless by Ludwig's big fists had not been Timo's proudest moment, particularly since that was Ludwig's first time competing for that belt. He had accepted the defeat all the same, and considered it done and over with. The papers had something else in mind, and everyone had been screaming for years for a rematch of Finn v. Blondie. Timo had refused, until the money piled up and became far too tempting. Ludwig must have concurred, because three years later they were fighting again.</p><p>That time, Timo knocked Ludwig out in the ninth round, and he felt his ego and honor had been restored.</p><p>As far as Timo and Ludwig had been concerned, they were even, and there was no need for another bout between them.</p><p>But still, always, the world seemed to want to make Finn v. Blondie something it just wasn't. Ludwig haunted Timo without even trying to, and there was never a fight nor press conference that didn't eventually bring up Ludwig's name.</p><p>Oh, Ludwig.</p><p>They hadn't ever intended to become grand rivals. Actually, they were pretty good friends. Timo liked Ludwig just fine. More than fine, actually. Of all the guys in the boxing world that Timo knew, Ludwig was by far his favorite, if only because Ludwig wasn't a pretentious, egotistical asshole.</p><p>Ludwig and Timo had gotten along right off, and they texted each other casually. They would always get together whenever they happened to be in the same city and go out for a beer. Ludwig was a nice guy, as quiet and humble as Timo, and that was rare in their world so they had drifted to each other.</p><p>Ludwig was his friend, and so in some way that made it a little more annoying that Ludwig was the only man that had ever beaten him. Could never hold it against him, though, could never in his life had disliked that dumb son of a bitch, because Ludwig was sweet as a mutt beneath that icy exterior. So much so, in fact, that Ludwig had actually invited Timo to his wedding, two years after Timo had defeated him. Timo had gone, out of courtesy, and of course for free drinks, because Timo was Finnish.</p><p>Ludwig had married another boxer. A heavyweight. A huge, terrifying looking Russian (with a much cooler nickname, the lucky bastard—Tank), and that had been the gossip of the boxing world because not too many men in that scene were willing to put themselves out there and admit they were gay. But Ludwig had, and he was far too popular for anyone to ever lose respect for him. His husband was not so lucky, being Russian, and was forced into retirement after being denounced in his home country.</p><p>Timo was known to swing both ways, but had never had a public relationship, and admired Ludwig and Ivan immensely for having little care for public opinion. Timo had known for a while that Ludwig was about as straight as a circle, but had never found it pertinent information.</p><p>Punched just as hard.</p><p>And now here they all were, five years later, ten years since the first fight between them, and people still talked about them. Timo considered it old news, and didn't see where the interest still lied. Timo wasn't getting any younger, thirty-seven and near the end of his career, and was very adamant that he would never again face Ludwig in the ring.</p><p>Seemed that lately, though, Ludwig's name was being thrown in his face, out of nowhere.</p><p>The reason was utterly ridiculous :</p><p>Ludwig was getting divorced.</p><p>Timo didn't like to pry into other people's personal lives, but Ludwig was obviously a bit of a fascination to him. Hard not to be a little obsessed with Ludwig, so he had perked up and turned his head when he heard the news.</p><p>Anyway, the papers always pried into other people's personal lives for him, and so Timo of course knew right away of Ludwig's recent divorce. Ludwig hadn't texted him about it (obviously), hadn't mentioned it at all, and so Timo never sent him a message of condolence, because it would have been awkward for the both of them.</p><p>Ludwig had just had some bad luck, was all, and Timo would never have made light of his messy life. Not over the phone, at least. Would save that for the bar.</p><p>With Ludwig now in the headlines again, people would ask Timo what he thought about 'Blondie', his opinion on Ludwig's life and marriage and the whatnot, because they were rivals and for that Timo must have had <em>something</em> to say. Nope! Timo always scratched his head, looked around in disbelief, and walked quickly away without a word.</p><p>The world wanted Timo and Ludwig to be rivals far more than they had ever wanted to be, made everything so much more dramatic, so much more spiteful, so much more interesting, exciting. The papers and news always made it sound like some electric, violent, crazy rivalry that both men were fueling, some sort of decade-long grudge that was heated and pulsing.</p><p>Nah.</p><p>Reality was far more boring.</p><p>Ludwig and Timo were friends who just happened to have a knack for losing only to the other.</p><p>That didn't make for good television or gossip, though, so rivals they were.</p><p>Timo stopped caring, and let everyone say and think what they wanted, and Ludwig had done the same, because, in the end, it all came down to the fact that they got paid. They had moved on, had gone down their own paths, and didn't desire coming face to face in the ring. In a bar or sauna, sure, but not behind ropes.</p><p>Finn v. Blondie was ancient history, done and over with. Timo would never fight Ludwig again, and that was that. Or so he thought. Probably should have never called Ludwig and invited him over to his house for a short getaway. He had only wanted to make the poor guy feel better during a rough time.</p><p>Shoulda remembered that the papers were always looking for something to talk about.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Ascension</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p>
    <strong>Chapter 2</strong>
  </p>
  <p>
    <strong>Ascension</strong>
  </p>
  <p>Ludwig had won every single possible prize in the middleweight boxing world, at least once.</p>
  <p>But Timo could say the same.</p>
  <p>Ludwig hadn't really gotten into boxing at first because he had enjoyed it, so much as he had been forced by Gilbert. Gilbert had had aspirations of being a world-class boxer, but it had never happened for him. Gilbert had gotten mixed up in the wrong crowd, had gotten hooked on drugs through his prime years, and had fizzled out with no blaze of glory. So, Gilbert had forced his little brother to learn to box, as a second chance perhaps, and Ludwig had always had an aptitude for it.</p>
  <p>It wasn't rocket science, punching other men in the face, but certainly some level of wit and skill was needed, and Ludwig excelled.</p>
  <p>Gilbert pushed him too hard, sometimes, and Ludwig felt it was his duty to win. Ludwig didn't really love the sport like everyone around him did. Ludwig won because he was expected to, and didn't really feel so much that he belonged.</p>
  <p>Didn't feel much like he belonged anywhere, and had anyone asked him how he had become a boxing celebrity, Ludwig would have merely shaken his head in bewilderment. Honest to god he didn't know, because it wasn't what he had ever wanted.</p>
  <p>Hell, Ludwig had always wanted to be an <em>actual </em>rocket scientist, if anyone could believe it.</p>
  <p>Gilbert loved Ludwig's fame, though, and because Gilbert couldn't box anymore, he had taken over as Ludwig's manager, because if nothing else Gilbert was very confident and persuasive and business-savvy.</p>
  <p>Aside from Gilbert, Ludwig didn't have that much human interaction in his life these days. His social life was considerably lacking, especially now that he was constantly dodging reporters.</p>
  <p>And then there was Magnus, his trainer.</p>
  <p>Magnus was one of the most insufferable men that Ludwig had ever met, and Ludwig had grown up with Gilbert. Sometimes, in fact, Ludwig wondered if maybe Gilbert and Magnus were actually fraternal twins or something, if Magnus was Ludwig's long-lost-other-big-brother, because damn if Gilbert and Magnus weren't cut from the same cloth.</p>
  <p>Obnoxious, egotistical, abrasive, crass, self-centered, proud, loud, domineering, controlling, temperamental, arrogant sons of bitches.</p>
  <p>Magnus was another failed world-class-dream of a boxer, but unlike Gilbert, Magnus had just had some bad luck. Magnus had been a heavyweight champion, and had never lost a match. But then, at twenty-one, he had been in a car accident that had left him with an imbalance in equilibrium that had disqualified him from professional boxing. He had been forced into retirement, it had devastated him, and much like Gilbert, Magnus was using Ludwig as a surrogate for being in the ring. Magnus had been training Ludwig since Ludwig had been ten. Eighteen years under the thumb of that bastard, and Magnus still found new and creative ways to drive Ludwig up the wall.</p>
  <p>Swear to god, if Magnus told Ludwig one more goddamn joke while throwing a punch at him, Ludwig was gonna snap and show up to training with an axe. They weren't even good jokes, the loser. Magnus was one of those ultra-macho guys that thought everything they did was awesome, which was why he and Gilbert had always gotten along so well.</p>
  <p>Ludwig felt like a little lark, pressed in between two cacophonous crows.</p>
  <p>And then on top of that, nowadays Magnus was alternating between berating Ludwig and hitting on him.</p>
  <p>Not even two hours after Ludwig had signed the divorce papers, Magnus was throwing an arm over his shoulders and saying so smarmily, even as Ludwig bawled, 'So you're single now! Good! I can have my way with you.'</p>
  <p>And by 'have my way with you', Magnus clearly meant, 'I can feel you up all I want during training without worrying about your big-ass husband breaking my fingers.'</p>
  <p>Because that was exactly what happened.</p>
  <p>Ivan had slapped Ludwig's ass about thirty times less in five years than Magnus had slapped it over the course of five days.</p>
  <p>Ludwig had been shocked, dumbfounded, because Magnus had always made innuendos and suggestions and the whatnot, but Ludwig had never thought he was serious. Magnus really was kinda like Ludwig's other big brother by now, and it was just...strange. Had been learning from that man, after all, since he had been ten.</p>
  <p>But...</p>
  <p>Magnus was an extremely handsome man, however, and Ludwig was in some part glad for the attention, because needless to say a divorce didn't do wonders for a man's self-esteem.</p>
  <p>Magnus was Danish, Ludwig's height but as broad and wide as Gilbert. And oh, damn, was Magnus ever gorgeous. Gilbert had always teased Ludwig for having bad taste in men, but Magnus was an absolutely universal taste. Square jaw, straight nose, high cheeks, dark blue eyes, very thick lashes, blond, big hands. Everything about Magnus was visually pleasing, and Ludwig had never been blind to that.</p>
  <p>Getting hit on by Magnus should probably have been the highlight of Ludwig's dull life.</p>
  <p>When Ludwig had stopped mid-punch one day, after Magnus had slapped his ass for the thousandth time, he had asked, 'Are you serious? Really?'</p>
  <p>Magnus had just shrugged a shoulder and said he was 'only a man', and he just 'wanted to get laid'.</p>
  <p>Eh—whatever. Not helpful.</p>
  <p>Ludwig just did what he always did, and kept his mouth shut and suffered Magnus' wandering hands. Suffered. Right. That was the right word. Suffering, yup, absolute torture, but if someone had to take one for the team, Ludwig figured it may as well have been him, because he coulda done a hell of a lot worse, and he desperately needed the ego boost.</p>
  <p>Ludwig couldn't say for sure who was worse : Gilbert or Magnus.</p>
  <p>They were both very consistently assholes, condescending and too full of themselves, but at least Gilbert was always berating Ludwig without waver. Magnus, on the other hand, needed to make up his goddamn mind, because Ludwig was sick of being berated one minute and then hit on the next. Magnus didn't seem to know if he was coming or going, and Ludwig was even more clueless.</p>
  <p>If Magnus wanted to give Ludwig some 'special training', then he needed to vocalize it plainly, because Ludwig was notoriously bad at taking hints, and Magnus should have known that better than anyone.</p>
  <p>Ludwig would have taken whatever Magnus gave him, for sure, lonely and torn up as he was, but he couldn't imagine actually being in a relationship with that jerk.</p>
  <p>Beyond Magnus and Gilbert, there was one more man who Ludwig had grown up with.</p>
  <p>Timo. The Finn.</p>
  <p>Timo was both the bane of Ludwig's existence and yet at the same time Ludwig's favorite person. Couldn't live with him, couldn't live without him. Ludwig had always viewed Timo as his other half. Two sides of the same coin. If Ludwig was sunlight, then Timo was moonlight. If Ludwig was fire, then Timo was ice. Opposites and yet undeniably linked.</p>
  <p>Ludwig had stood in Timo's shadow his entire life. One of Ludwig's earliest memories, in fact, was of being nine years old and sitting with Gilbert on the couch as Gilbert watched Timo's first professional fight. Would never forget Gilbert saying, 'Look at <em>him</em>—he's something special. Mark my words, he's gonna be a legend.'</p>
  <p>And Gilbert had been right, as usual, and from that day Ludwig had aspired to be like Timo, because Gilbert expected him to be. Ludwig never missed a single match of Timo's, either competitive or prize, and followed him extensively.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was a damn good boxer, he knew that, but he was good because he had sort of turned boxing into a big pile of math and statistics and repetitive patterns up in his head. Ludwig studied opponents, memorized their movements, their patterns, their styles, and was able to find a pattern in turn that would dominate. It was all a science still, it was, and that was why Ludwig was so good.</p>
  <p>Timo was different.</p>
  <p>Everything about Timo was so natural. Ludwig had never wanted to be a boxer, but it was so obvious in everything about Timo that that was exactly where he was meant to be. Timo looked perfectly at home in the ring, just an extension of the sport itself, and Ludwig had always been awed by that.</p>
  <p>There was no one out there like Timo.</p>
  <p>Timo was a few centimeters shorter than Ludwig, but a little wider. They were usually perfectly in the same range, but even though the scale said it was an even fight, Ludwig had always somehow felt underpowered.</p>
  <p>How could you ever go up against a man like Timo and not shudder?</p>
  <p>Timo would seem rather unassuming at a glance, and sometimes when they went out to drink Ludwig had to do a double-take because Timo looked so normal. Just a man, with blond hair and big, pretty brown eyes. A few freckles here and there on his face and neck, sunspots on his arms and hands. Always neutral, neither friendly nor unfriendly. Guarded and silent. Timo was stern and sharp in his features, but his chubbier cheeks had always made him look a little younger than he actually was.</p>
  <p>In the ring, though, every normal thing about Timo seemed frightening because he looked so effortless. Like he owned the place. Master of the universe. Those pretty brown eyes sharpened, focused, pinned his opponents in place, analyzed everything and saw everything, and Timo's huge hands seemed to have a mind of their own. Everything in Timo worked as one perfect, flawless machine when he fought, and Ludwig wished more than anything that he could have been half that natural.</p>
  <p>Maybe it was all in Ludwig's head, because he admired Timo so and Timo was the only man that Ludwig actually feared fighting.</p>
  <p>For good reason, since Timo was the only man who had ever knocked him out.</p>
  <p>That first time fighting Timo, Ludwig had been petrified, absolutely petrified. Had never felt such anxiety and fear as he did then, standing before that legend for the first time. His childhood idol right there before him, ready to break him in half.</p>
  <p>But Ludwig's one advantage in that first fight had been in how new to the scene he was. Timo had never heard of Ludwig before that day, didn't know a damn thing about him, and Ludwig had had years of dissecting Timo's patterns and forming his own counter ones.</p>
  <p>Ludwig had won, because Ludwig knew everything about Timo and Timo was blind.</p>
  <p>The second time was different, because by then Timo had watched Ludwig fighting and had figured out Ludwig's style. Ludwig hadn't stood a chance, in hindsight, because Timo had realized that Ludwig's 'style' always reflected that of the man he happened to be fighting.</p>
  <p>Ludwig had predicted every move that Timo made in that second fight, and Timo had wised up to that and forced himself to be unnatural, because Timo was just that good. Nine rounds, and then tenacious, sneaky Timo had somehow gotten past him and right through his defense, and Ludwig had just enough time to see Timo's fist coming right at his face.</p>
  <p>And that was the last thing Ludwig remembered.</p>
  <p>But oh, man, had he ever received an earful from Gilbert and Magnus.</p>
  <p>Worse than losing, for sure, hearing Gilbert gripe, as he slapped Ludwig's back, 'How could ya let that creep knock ya out, Lutz? I lost so much money!'</p>
  <p>And then Magnus was even worse, waving a hand in the air and saying, so condescendingly, 'Who the hell trained you? Musta been someone else, because <em>I </em>sure as hell woulda never fallen for that! You ever see <em>me</em> on my back up there?'</p>
  <p>No. No he had not, but Magnus was gonna be on his back somewhere else, when he pressed too far and Ludwig decided to knock <em>him </em>out instead.</p>
  <p>After that loss, Magnus had berated him for months, and seemed offended that Ludwig had had the <em>nerve</em> to lose at all. Took it quite personally, because Ludwig wasn't supposed to lose.</p>
  <p>Gilbert and Magnus had forbidden him from losing, for their own egos rather than his.</p>
  <p>Ludwig, for his part, was quite happy to have his only loss come from his hero. Hell, wasn't that how everyone wanted to go out? It was an honor to be beaten senseless by Timo.</p>
  <p>But that aside.</p>
  <p>Timo was a nice guy, if one could ever actually believe it. He wasn't openly nice, no, not outwardly expressive. Didn't show any emotion at all, really, come to think, and his face certainly never changed, whatever he happened to be feeling. But Timo was a nice guy, Ludwig was <em>sure </em>of it, even if he could have never given solid examples should anyone have asked it of him.</p>
  <p>Timo was a very private man with few acquaintances, and maybe that was why Timo and Ludwig got on so well, because Ludwig was the same.</p>
  <p>Ludwig had nearly had a fit of squeals and nerves when Timo had given Ludwig his phone number and texted him the first time. Having your idol actually text you was indescribably remarkable, and Ludwig had kicked his legs out on his bed like a schoolgirl when Timo had invited him for a beer.</p>
  <p>Best day ever.</p>
  <p>Ludwig didn't care at all about their press-generated rivalry.</p>
  <p>Timo was his friend, and that was all. There was no animosity, no hard feelings, and Ludwig was very content to never fight Timo again. Unless Timo wanted to, and then pitiful Ludwig would have gladly produced himself to Timo and proudly said, 'Do what you want to me.'</p>
  <p>After Ludwig had beaten Timo the first time, once the belt was on him, Ludwig had immediately skittered out of the ring and over to Timo, held out a magazine, and asked for his autograph. And that still hung on his bedroom wall, ten years later.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was kinda pathetic, but so be it.</p>
  <p>Timo was everything he had ever wanted to be, if he had no choice but to box.</p>
  <p>And now Timo was really coming through for him, in this most miserable year of Ludwig's life.</p>
  <p>It wasn't surprising that Timo had called Ludwig and asked to hang out. They had done that a hundred times before. What was surprising was that Timo was inviting Ludwig to his home in Finland. That was a first, for sure, and Ludwig had only accepted because he really needed to get the hell away for a while. Needed away from Magnus, from Gilbert, from the gossip and the people he knew, and most of all he needed away from the memory of Ivan.</p>
  <p>So Ludwig bought his plane ticket, and was actually relieved.</p>
  <p>It did make him feel a little better, signing autographs in the airport. The offered condolences on his divorce, however, did not make him feel better.</p>
  <p>Ludwig leaned his head against the airplane wall, eyes staring out at the clouds as he made his way across the sea, and tried to keep his spirits up.</p>
  <p>Lately, his thoughts had been far too dreary.</p>
  <p>Ivan was gone.</p>
  <p>And then, more than that...</p>
  <p>Timo would retire before long, and Ludwig was actually kind of dreading it. Felt in some way that the day Timo hung up his belt was the day Ludwig's grand era was over.</p>
  <p>Without Finn, Blondie seemed less interesting.</p>
  <p>Maybe Ludwig's abysmal self-confidence had forced him to that conclusion, but it was hard to think highly of himself when every time he saw his name, Timo's inevitably came up shortly after. That, or his divorce.</p>
  <p>Ludwig wished he could have been more like Timo. Focused and unbothered and so effortless. Admired that man more than anything, had always wanted to be just like him, and felt as if he had failed in that as much as in everything else. Ivan had left him, and soon Timo would, too.</p>
  <p>Magnus said that once Timo was out of the picture, it was Ludwig's time to shine. The beginning of Ludwig's era, rather than the end.</p>
  <p>All Ludwig heard was, 'Timo's always overshadowed you, so only once he's gone will anyone actually notice you.'</p>
  <p>Timo had only ever been his friend and idol, not his rival.</p>
  <p>Ludwig didn't need a damn rival; he was his own worst enemy.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Frenemies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p>
    <strong>Chapter 3</strong>
  </p>
  <p>
    <strong>Frenemies</strong>
  </p>
  <p>Timo didn't know why it had never really occurred to him that Finn picking up Blondie from the Helsinki airport would have attracted attention. Maybe he was in denial, maybe sometimes he was dumb, because he just hopped in his car and drove to the airport and pulled straight into the garage, and then stood in the corner in the arrivals hall and waited. Didn't think twice about it.</p>
  <p>When someone asked Timo for an autograph and Timo saw the first flash of the camera, that was when he first considered that maybe he shoulda sent Berwald. Or let Ludwig take the train.</p>
  <p>When Ludwig came out, suitcase in hand, Timo kicked off the wall and waved his hand in the air. Ludwig found him in a second, made a beeline for him, and, oh boy, Timo felt those camera flashes, for sure. Knew he was in for it, and knew he had probably been a little foolhardy to come himself.</p>
  <p>Ah, hell. Let 'em talk. Who cared?</p>
  <p>Ludwig smiled a little when he saw Timo, and they clapped hands briefly before Timo very briskly led Ludwig to his car. Ready to get the hell outta here before he got a million questions thrown at him.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was quiet, as usual, and they didn't say much as they drove out of the city. Just a few words here and there. Two hours later, when they arrived in Tampere, Timo parked the car and led Ludwig up the very long, isolated path to his equally isolated house.</p>
  <p>That was when, at last, Timo gave his full attention to his companion, and looked Ludwig up and down, trying to get a feel for his current form. Looked impeccable, as always, and Timo could see that Ludwig was doing the same to him.</p>
  <p>They were friends, but they were also rivals, so Timo dutifully lifted his chin and said, finally, "Congratulations on your divorce. I knew I shouldn't've held my peace at the wedding. What d'ya do to run him off?"</p>
  <p>Ludwig's face blazed red, he looked mortified, taken aback and caught off guard, and then he swallowed and gave a weak scoff.</p>
  <p>It had been below the belt, for sure, but that was what they did.</p>
  <p>So Ludwig finally ran a hand through his hair, and grumbled, "Thanks. Why the interest? If you wanna try to be my new husband, I have some bad news for ya."</p>
  <p>"Bullshit!" Timo shot back. "We both know if I proposed right this second, you'd scream like a girl and go run to find a wedding dress."</p>
  <p>Ludwig glared at him, gently, but waved a hand in the air, griping, "Alright—I'll let you have that one."</p>
  <p>Timo snorted, punched Ludwig's shoulder playfully, and pushed him along.</p>
  <p>As they walked to Timo's house, Timo kept up the torment, because he was an asshole, and said, "Say! You should have talked to me before you got married, ya know? I coulda saved you a lot of trouble. What with your ex proposing to me way back. I was smart enough to refuse."</p>
  <p>Ludwig's head snapped over, eyes wide and mouth dropped open, and even though Ludwig looked hurt and sad, Timo kept on.</p>
  <p>Best way to get over it was to give Ludwig hell about it, tease him, because each time it would get a little better. If you can't make fun of yourself, after all...</p>
  <p>Ludwig couldn't tell if Timo was serious or not, clearly, because Timo's face never changed, and he eventually turned his eyes back ahead, and said, simply, "Sorry. Guess I forgot to call, after you dented my head in."</p>
  <p>There he was!</p>
  <p>Timo slapped Ludwig's back, jostled him, and Ludwig seemed to cheer up a little by the time they reached the house and settled in.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was his friend, and Timo hated seeing him looking so sad. He took Ludwig's suitcase, led him to the guest bedroom, and then he wasted no time in dragging Ludwig to the living room and hauling out a healthy supply of beer and vodka.</p>
  <p>Ludwig threw himself on Timo's sofa, happily taking a beer, and Timo knew Ludwig didn't drink liquor and so he just took the vodka bottle and perched it in his lap as he sat sideways on the opposite end of the couch.</p>
  <p>After a long silence, Timo figured it was time to get it out of the way, and he reached out to nudge Ludwig's knee with his foot. When Ludwig glanced over, Timo asked, "So. You gonna tell me what went wrong, huh?"</p>
  <p>Ludwig's eyes immediately fell to the floor, and Timo regretted it, but Ludwig would just have to put it behind him.</p>
  <p>Another long silence, before Ludwig heaved a sigh, took a swig of his beer, and then began, deeply, "It wasn't just one thing. We were arguing a lot near the end. Over nothing at all."</p>
  <p>Timo lifted his brow at that, because Ludwig didn't seem like a guy who liked arguing much. Ludwig was very stern, sure, but passive outside of the ring. Folded easily, stayed quiet and bowed to the whims of others. Hard to imagine him actively engaging in a verbal argument. For Christ's sake, whenever they met up, Ludwig refused to make the decision about what bar they would go to, forcing Timo to take the lead. Could hardly envision Ludwig raising his voice to that literal tank he had married. (Woulda liked to see it, though.)</p>
  <p>"I think— He never said it, but I think he started hating me a little."</p>
  <p>"Why's that?" Timo pried.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was a nice guy, and Timo had been at that wedding; Ivan had looked quite over the moon, bristling and confident and beaming away so happily. Had never seen a man happier to get married than Ivan, and Ivan was the only one crying during the ceremony that wasn't a woman. Seemed to love Ludwig so much.</p>
  <p>Ludwig pursed his lips, thoughtfully, and uttered, "After he had to retire, he changed a little. He loved boxing more than anything. Retiring was too hard for him. At first he said he didn't mind, as long as we were together, but... That wasn't true. I could see how much it bothered him, that I was still able to compete and he wasn't. Because he loves it so much, and I don't really. He didn't think that was fair, that I was able to fight still when I don't even like it like he does. And then he started talking about moving to America. He wanted to be a trainer. Said the market was better in America. I didn't wanna go. That was the final straw."</p>
  <p>Ludwig fell silent, as Timo stared at him, and then Timo lifted his legs up and used Ludwig's lap as a foot rest. Ludwig glared over at him, halfheartedly, but leaned back into the sofa and heaved a sigh, clapping his free hand down on Timo's shin.</p>
  <p>"Don't worry about it," Timo said, as he lifted his foot and pressed it into Ludwig's cheek, eliciting a squeal and squirm, "You'll find your Prince Charming before long. Maybe next time you'll even get to be the one who leaves <em>him</em>."</p>
  <p>Ludwig's slapped Timo's foot away from his face, but he was smiling then, really smiling, and looked much better for it.</p>
  <p>"Why did I come here?" Ludwig whined. "You're the worst!"</p>
  <p>"'Cause you're fuckin' dumb," Timo droned, blandly, and Ludwig rolled his eyes.</p>
  <p>"You're not wrong," he grumbled, and the rest of the night passed in a much better mood.</p>
  <p>They teased each other, chatted and joked (Timo could actually crack jokes in the right mood, really, totally, and was good at it, he swore to god), and Ludwig's mood was as bright as his hair by the time he stumbled tipsily upstairs into the guest room.</p>
  <p>Come morning, Timo had pretty much forgotten all about Ludwig's divorce, and hoped he did, too. No point in mulling over it, although that was surely easier said than done.</p>
  <p>That day, they spent in the sauna in the backyard, and when the sun fell Timo dragged Ludwig out to a bar.</p>
  <p>They'd sat in a ton of bars together, yeah, but never in Timo's hometown, and that created a little bit of a stir. Again, Timo probably should have known better, but was it too much to ask that he just lived his damn life without wondering how people he didn't know would react?</p>
  <p>Just wanted to have a drink with a friend.</p>
  <p>They drank, chatted with the numerous people that came up to them, posed for a few pictures, signed a few autographs, the usual, and got a bit loud and raucous when the alcohol started taking over. Ludwig sure was popular with the girls, lord was he ever, and even icy Finnish girls opened up their mouths and lifted their gaze to make eye contact with him.</p>
  <p>Too bad Ludwig didn't really comprehend how intense an act of flirting making eye contact was in Finland.</p>
  <p>Timo snorted and watched Ludwig fumble with the ladies, because it was hilarious. Most girls didn't like boxing. They knew who Timo was, sure, but didn't follow the sport enough to know that Ludwig was about as straight as Timo's parking job after a day-long vodka bender.</p>
  <p>It was cute to see Ludwig's face burn red as he squirmed away from girl after girl.</p>
  <p>Timo thought about throwing an arm over Ludwig's shoulder and kissing his cheek, but the entire boxing world would have imploded in on itself in a supernova had anyone sent a photo of <em>that</em> to the press. Couldn't even imagine the gossip. His ears woulda caught fire.</p>
  <p>Whew, boy, 'Finn v. Blondie' would have taken on a whole new meaning had he done that.</p>
  <p>So Timo just tipsily watched Ludwig with a slanted smile, and felt content. Cheery. Not feelings he was particularly accustomed to but actually enjoyed.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was happy when they went back to Timo's house, and Timo was happy because Ludwig was happy. That was the whole point of bringing him up here.</p>
  <p>As usual, things never went according to plan.</p>
  <p>On the third day that Ludwig had been in his home, Timo's phone buzzed. He glanced at it, saw a text from Berwald, and rolled his eyes. He opened it up regardless, and found his curiosity aroused.</p>
  <p><em> 'This true?' </em>was the simple message, with a link below. Timo clicked on it, and it led him to one of the more popular Finnish boxing paper's website.</p>
  <p>Timo groaned aloud, and Ludwig looked over at him.</p>
  <p>Fuckin' hell—it was a picture of him and Ludwig clapping hands at the airport, and then another of them in the bar. The headline read, 'Are we getting Finn v. Blondie 3 soon?'</p>
  <p>No. No they were not.</p>
  <p>"What?" Ludwig asked, at the look on Timo's face, and Timo showed Ludwig his phone. Ludwig didn't speak Finnish, but didn't really need to, when he saw the photo of them together. Immediately, Ludwig rolled his eyes. "Figures," he griped, and Timo felt him on that.</p>
  <p>Timo couldn't help but snort a little, and regretted not kissing Ludwig's cheek in the bar. Would have been less annoying news, somehow, the world thinking they were having an affair.</p>
  <p>Too late.</p>
  <p>To avoid more annoying chatter, they just stayed in Timo's home for the remaining three days, and Ludwig refused his ride back to the airport, taking the train instead. Timo couldn't blame him, and merely waved goodbye.</p>
  <p>As far as Timo had been concerned, that had been the end of it. Ludwig felt better, Timo had gotten in a little bit of human interaction, the world got a little gossip, and everyone was happy.</p>
  <p>Right?</p>
  <p>Wrong.</p>
  <p>The day after Ludwig left, Timo went to his gym, mindlessly, thinking nothing of it, but he had barely wrapped his knuckles when someone was suddenly calling his name.</p>
  <p>Timo looked over his shoulder, and rolled his eyes, grimacing.</p>
  <p>Rolling his eyes seemed to be Timo's innate reaction to seeing Berwald.</p>
  <p>Berwald came running up to him, and said, thickly, "Guess <em>what</em>!"</p>
  <p>Timo hated Berwald and hated guessing games, so he just stared at Berwald in annoyance, face very stern, but Berwald was ever oblivious to Timo's dislike of him. Berwald was just oblivious in general, come to think, and was oddly excited in that moment, nearly bouncing on his heels, eyes wider than usual and actually smiling. His clothes were ruffled, as if he had dressed in a hurry, his messy hair was sticking out in every direction, and his glasses were a little crooked upon his equally crooked nose. His normally lidded eyes were quite alert, bright and focused.</p>
  <p>For just a second there, in that excitement, Berwald was almost handsome.</p>
  <p>Go figure.</p>
  <p>At Timo's silence, Berwald finally said, "I got ya booked for a rematch."</p>
  <p>Timo's brow furrowed, he felt quite confused, and he asked, "Against who?"</p>
  <p>Berwald's nearly gleeful smile.</p>
  <p>"Blondie!"</p>
  <p>Ah, shit—</p>
  <p>Timo scoffed, shook his head, and groaned, as Berwald imploded with his own enthusiasm.</p>
  <p>"I didn't agree to that," Timo griped, as Berwald fidgeted away.</p>
  <p>"It's all taken care of," Berwald nearly gushed. "All ya gotta do is sign!"</p>
  <p>Immediately, Timo put his foot down and said, "No way!"</p>
  <p>Not gonna happen, no way, absolutely not, no way in hell. Wasn't gonna happen, no matter how much the entire world screamed at them for a rematch.</p>
  <p>Never!</p>
  <p>And that was that.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Bonded</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p>
    <strong>Chapter 4</strong>
  </p>
  <p>
    <strong>Bonded</strong>
  </p>
  <p>"Absolutely not, and that's that."</p>
  <p>Ludwig's famous last words to Gilbert.</p>
  <p>But then Gilbert had narrowed his eyes, hardened his face, squared his shoulders, and Ludwig had known right off that 'that's that' was not, after all, that's that. It was actually just the beginning, because Gilbert had set his mind to something and Ludwig didn't ever really have a choice but to do what Gilbert said.</p>
  <p>This time, though, Ludwig gave a grand effort to resist.</p>
  <p>Timo hadn't signed anything, hadn't agreed to anything, and so there was no way in hell that Ludwig was going to go behind his back and scribble his signature on something just because Gilbert told him to. In theory, anyway. Timo was Ludwig's only friend, his idol, and there was no way Ludwig would have risked any of that.</p>
  <p>How had this even come about? Neither he nor Timo had ever expressed desiring a rematch.</p>
  <p>Gilbert reached out, grabbed Ludwig's collar, and cried, "Are ya crazy? You know how much money this is? Do ya? They're talking estimates already, and we haven't even promoted! They think you can get up to fifty million Euros outta this, Lutz! You hear me? Fifty million! Are you fuckin' crazy? Are ya? All that money, for one damn fight!"</p>
  <p>Ludwig wriggled out of Gilbert's grip, and dutifully said, not so honestly, "I don't care about the money. I don't want to."</p>
  <p>Gilbert's mouth fell open, and he reached out to gently slap Ludwig's cheek, shouting, "Don't give me that holier-than-thou shit! You lying punk! You don't want the money? That's some bullshit! Give it to me then, if ya want, and you can keep the honor. If you win, anyway."</p>
  <p>Honor?</p>
  <p>Um—</p>
  <p>Honor was great, yes, and Ludwig liked that very much, yes yes, but, um, fifty million Euros actually didn't sound too bad either, although that was likely the extremely high end of the estimate. Probably woulda been more like five to ten, but that was still a lot of money, and, well...</p>
  <p>Ludwig was only a man, and finally he punched Gilbert's shoulder, and said, "If Timo agrees, then we'll talk. It's his decision."</p>
  <p>Timo was his idol, and the ultimate decision would be his, because it was the end of Timo's grand era. Whether or not he wanted this to mar his reputation towards the end could only be guessed.</p>
  <p>Gilbert slapped Ludwig's cheek one more time, softly, and griped, "Ya need to be more aggressive. Go call him, then. See what he says. Maybe mention the fifty goddamn <em>million </em>Euros, alright? Jesus Christ."</p>
  <p>Ludwig quickly escaped Gilbert, and pulled out his phone when he was alone. He stared down at it, tried to gather his nerves, and quickly chickened out. Was afraid to call Timo, scared to hear what he would say, and was scared above all else that Timo would somehow be angry at Ludwig, for something or another, and distance himself.</p>
  <p>Didn't have any other friends.</p>
  <p>Ludwig tucked his phone away, sighed, and instead went to hunt down Magnus.</p>
  <p>When he knocked on Magnus' door, he didn't really get the chance to say anything; Magnus opened up immediately, and it was clear how amped up he was. His always messy hair was even messier if that were possible, he was still in his sleep clothes, and his eyes were wide as could be. High on adrenaline. When Magnus saw Ludwig, he reached out, grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him inside, slamming the door behind him.</p>
  <p>Ludwig nearly fell backwards when Magnus suddenly pounced on him, embracing him around the neck and strangling him, and then Magnus very abruptly kissed Ludwig on the lips. Another slap to his cheek, a tussle of his hair, a punch to his shoulder, and then Magnus finally spoke.</p>
  <p>His voice was high, thin, eager, as he cried, "Holy shit, Lutz! Can ya fuckin' believe it? Fifty million Euros! Can ya fuckin' believe it?" Magnus slapped Ludwig's cheek again (enough already, assholes, his damn nose was gonna bleed soon) and then he threw his hands up in the air triumphantly, as if he were back in the ring. "Finn versus Blondie, the remake! The fight of the century! I can't believe it! I've never been so excited, Lutz, never! I can't fuckin' wait, I can't wait, oh, god, we're gonna give them a show, are we ever!"</p>
  <p>Ludwig gawked at raving Magnus for a while, rubbing absently at his cheek, before he finally managed to say, weakly, "You know Timo is probably gonna refuse, right?"</p>
  <p>Hated to rain on the parade, but it didn't seem likely that Timo would be so eager.</p>
  <p>Hated being <em>that</em> guy, yeah, because Magnus was clearly so adamant. Magnus was pumped up more than Ludwig ever could be, at the mere notion. Excited and bolstered and very eager. Ready to go. Magnus had taken it so personally when Timo had knocked Ludwig out, and was ready for this rematch. Magnus couldn't fight, so pretended he was Ludwig.</p>
  <p>As far as Magnus was concerned, it wasn't really so much 'Finn v. Blondie 3', but more like, 'Finn v. That Big Danish Guy That Had To Retire And Is Forcing His Protégé To Fight In His Stead 3'.</p>
  <p>Magnus would claim victory should Ludwig have been the one to win.</p>
  <p>Sure enough, at Ludwig's words Magnus' face fell a little.</p>
  <p>"The fuck you mean?" he asked, brow low and crazy eyes a little less bright. "All that money! Ain't no way he'll say 'no'!"</p>
  <p>Ludwig snorted, and said, simply, "Then you don't know Timo."</p>
  <p>Magnus' arms slowly fell to his sides, his enthusiasm dampened, and Ludwig did hate seeing it, because so much of Magnus' life revolved around this. Ludwig had always felt he owed Magnus some duty, because it wasn't fair that Magnus had been put to bed before his time. Ludwig was Magnus' second chance, and Ludwig had always felt that pressure.</p>
  <p>Couldn't stand seeing him look disappointed.</p>
  <p>Ludwig's greatest fear was of letting someone down. Gilbert and Magnus above all else, and then Timo, too. Ivan.</p>
  <p>Magnus was quiet, solemn, cranky, and so Ludwig quickly vanished and went home.</p>
  <p>He held his phone in his hands for hours, but never gathered the courage to call Timo and ask him about it.</p>
  <p>Coward.</p>
  <p>Gilbert texted him that night, asking about it, and Ludwig ignored him. Felt stifled on absolutely all ends, and the morning wasn't much better. He awoke to a loud knock on his door. Tumbling out of bed in a less than graceful manner, Ludwig fumbled his way to the front door and yanked it open.</p>
  <p>Magnus stood there, and Ludwig wasn't really too surprised, at least until Magnus grabbed Ludwig's arm, and said, "Get packed. We're leaving tonight."</p>
  <p>"To where?" Ludwig asked, stumbling along as domineering Magnus dragged him like a doll down his own hall.</p>
  <p>"Finland. We're going to go see your other half in action. I gotta see him in the training ring. Get a feel for him, ya know? So maybe I can keep your dumb ass on your feet this time. And then we gotta talk him into it, I guess, if he gives us a hard time. Work your magic on him. He seems to actually like you, for <em>some </em>reason."</p>
  <p>Ow.</p>
  <p>As usual, there was little to do but bow to Magnus' whim, because Magnus would never let Ludwig make his own decisions. Ludwig grumbled to himself as he packed up a few day's worth of clothing, before Magnus was once more dragging him, and this time to the airport.</p>
  <p>Timo was in for a very rude and unexpected visit.</p>
  <p>During the entire wait in the airport and the flight itself, Magnus lectured Ludwig endlessly about how he was to under no circumstances let Timo refuse this fight.</p>
  <p>Ludwig just nodded along, feeling dazed and numb.</p>
  <p>Unlike Gilbert and Ludwig, Magnus really <em>didn't </em>care about the money. Magnus cared about the glory, the honor, the title and the respect. Magnus lived through Ludwig, and so this fight meant more to him than it did either Timo or Ludwig. Magnus woulda died if Timo had refused to sign, and Ludwig wondered if Magnus had ever stopped to think about what Ludwig would have liked.</p>
  <p>Well...</p>
  <p>It <em>was</em> a lot of money for just one fight, one little night of his life, and if that gave Magnus such great joy, then it would have been selfish of Ludwig to deny him that when the effort seemed so minimal.</p>
  <p>But, oh, <em>man</em>—was facing Timo ever terrifying.</p>
  <p>He actually froze up in the threshold of Timo's gym the following afternoon, become literally immobile in anxiety, and Magnus had to place both hands on his back and push him through the door by force.</p>
  <p>People stared at Ludwig as he walked in, recognizing him instantly. Could hear the low chatter and whispers, and tried to keep his eyes on Timo, whose back was turned and hadn't yet noticed them.</p>
  <p>His heart was pounding.</p>
  <p>Timo was in the practice ring, preparing to wrap his hands, when he happened to glance back. At the meeting of their eyes, Ludwig could have sworn that Timo's mouth actually dropped open for a split second, before he perfectly composed himself. Timo stood up perfectly straight, braced his legs and chest, squared his shoulders, lidded his eyes, and appeared very uninterested as Ludwig crept in shame up to the ring. Didn't look at him at all, face absolutely condescending and unruffled.</p>
  <p>Magnus was yet shoving Ludwig along, blazing eyes focused on Timo, who was Magnus' greatest obstacle to glory.</p>
  <p>When Ludwig came up to the ring, he grabbed the rope, leaned up against it, and said, simply, "Hi."</p>
  <p>Timo lifted his chin, and curtly offered, "Hey."</p>
  <p>Magnus settled in beside of Ludwig, looking Timo up and down with scrutiny. The first time Magnus had ever really come face to face with Timo. He had been there for both fights, but had been far too busy screeching at Ludwig and chastising him to ever give Timo the time of day.</p>
  <p>Magnus was probably about to combust from all of his excitement, but kept his face very unfriendly.</p>
  <p>The rest of the gym may have been gawking at Ludwig and whispering about him, but Timo didn't even give Ludwig one microsecond of his attention, likely purposefully, as if Ludwig wasn't there at all.</p>
  <p>"So," Ludwig began tentatively, as Timo wrapped his knuckles. "Guess they've been nagging you, too."</p>
  <p>"Mm-hm," Timo merely offered, without glancing at Ludwig.</p>
  <p>Ludwig looked over at Magnus for courage, and Magnus waved a hand in the air as if to say, 'Go on!'</p>
  <p>Ludwig took a breath, leaned over the ropes a little, and tried, "Have they given you estimates yet? It's...a lot of money."</p>
  <p>"Yes," Timo said, and left it there.</p>
  <p>Goddammit, Timo! The jerk was just playing with him, as usual, and Ludwig could see Timo glance rather coyly at him from the corner of his eye. A slightly lifted brow. A twitch of Timo's lips. A face full of knowing.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was being taken for a ride, all right, and sighed.</p>
  <p>Timo suddenly turned around to face Ludwig at last, knuckles wrapped, and said, "Hey. Wanna get in here and play around with me for a while?"</p>
  <p>By 'play around', Timo really meant, 'If you wanna talk, you're gonna haveta get knocked around first'.</p>
  <p>Ludwig, once more, didn't get to decide, because Magnus grabbed Ludwig's sleeve and actually shoved him harshly between the ropes and into the ring, making him stumble and almost fall on his face.</p>
  <p>That was when Timo, at long last, turned his gaze over to Magnus.</p>
  <p>Their eyes locked, and it was about as electric as Ludwig could have ever imagined, with two men like that. Timo gave away nothing, absolutely nothing, but Magnus wasn't so stoic and it was very easy to see him bristling and puffing out, as he tried to intimidate Timo.</p>
  <p>But nothing intimidated Timo, nothing, and in the end Timo merely lifted his chin, snorted airily, and turned his eyes back to Ludwig without a single word.</p>
  <p>Magnus in turn didn't really introduce himself to Timo and backed up, choosing instead to sneer at him from the corner, leaning against the wall with arms crossed over his chest. But Timo was emotionless, stoic, as inexpressive as a stone, and gave Magnus absolutely no time of day. As if Magnus wasn't there at all, some unwelcome guest in Timo's gym.</p>
  <p>Timo did lay into Ludwig, though, and said, as he rolled his shoulders to warm them up, "So, you <em>this </em>worried about losing to me, huh? Had to fly all the way back to play around with me to save your ass? You thought you'd just walk in here and learn all of my secrets?"</p>
  <p>Ludwig rotated his wrists, as Magnus scoffed in the corner, and merely grumbled, "Nah. I just can't stay away from you. You got my hopes up, talking about proposing to me. I'm kinda hoping if I knock you down to one knee you'll pull out a ring."</p>
  <p>Timo laughed aloud, in a rare moment, and smiled quite prettily.</p>
  <p>When Timo actually smiled, he was extremely handsome, and Ludwig had always liked to see it, because Timo's smile was as pretty as his eyes.</p>
  <p>Timo allowed Ludwig to wrap his hands, and that was all the comfort he was given before they squared off. No gloves, no guards. Just a bare-knuckle training session, playing around in a way, and Ludwig still felt panic even though this was just them having some fun as friends.</p>
  <p>The entire gym had fallen utterly still to watch them, and Ludwig supposed he couldn't blame 'em, because this was a free show between two legends, though one of them didn't feel so legendary.</p>
  <p>Timo punched at him first, as Magnus' sharp eyes memorized every single move, and Ludwig jumped in surprise.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was scared of Timo, at the bottom of it all, and found himself freezing up a little, because in some way he wasn't actually sure if he was allowed to punch Timo. He had been offered a friendly spar, sure, but he was in Timo's gym, in Finland, and it felt kinda disrespectful. Were you supposed to really try to hit the guy whose photo was hanging on your wall? Without being paid, that was.</p>
  <p>Timo seemed quite keen to Ludwig's mind, from that tiny little smirk on his face, and was well aware of Ludwig's hesitations and second-guessing.</p>
  <p>But Timo was Timo, and Timo didn't cut Ludwig any slack just because Ludwig was nervous.</p>
  <p>Ludwig wasn't really fighting, and Timo punished him for it with a twist and an uppercut.</p>
  <p>Ah—forgot how much bare knuckles hurt.</p>
  <p>Instinctive retaliation, but once more Ludwig pulled his punch at the last second, as Magnus screeched at him from behind. Sorry, man, just couldn't fight like this. In the gym and in the ring was different, and that was extra true against Timo.</p>
  <p>So Timo just barged right through Ludwig's defense, Ludwig tried to punch him, and Timo just reached up and grabbed his right arm and then hooked him in the shoulder. And that hurt like hell, yeah, but not as much as when Timo punched him across the face and knocked him down.</p>
  <p>His nose was finally bleeding, after days of abuse. But it was Timo, so that was just fine, thank you sir. Was pretty sure his cheek was cut, too, but that was a small price to pay if Timo had enjoyed himself.</p>
  <p>Ludwig may have had a bit of an idol-worship issue when it came to Timo.</p>
  <p>Magnus slapped his forehead, and griped, "How about you actually <em>try </em>next time, Lutz?"</p>
  <p>...and there it was.</p>
  <p>The spectators around the ring dispersed, and went back to their various routines, as Magnus stomped around like a child and cursed to himself.</p>
  <p>To Magnus, every single game was meant to be won, even this one.</p>
  <p>When Ludwig was lying on his back and Magnus was bitching, Timo put a hand on his hip, smiled again, and said, "Ya know what? I kinda like knockin' you around. I forget how easy you bleed. Makes me feel like I really tried. Let's talk about this fight."</p>
  <p>Magnus' foul mood immediately fled, he brightened and perked up, beamed, and slammed his fist against the wall with a strangled cry of, "<em>Yes</em>!"</p>
  <p>Even down on the mat, despite the stars spinning, Ludwig smiled, too.</p>
  <p>Maybe being passive had worked to his advantage, because Timo liked challenges and maybe there was mutual curiosity about how the other had improved over the years.</p>
  <p>Timo extended his hand, Ludwig took it, and was hauled to his feet.</p>
  <p>Sure enough, Timo whispered, so Magnus wouldn't hear, "I won't lie, I really wanna see what you can do up there. If I have to lose to someone, I'd rather it be you."</p>
  <p>"Likewise," Ludwig murmured, and Timo clapped his back and stood him up straight.</p>
  <p>Magnus, too impatient to really wait, suddenly leapt over the ropes with such eagerness that he got tangled up and fell on his face. He quickly bolted up, came over to them, clapped his hand down on Ludwig's shoulder, and leaned in. Timo leaned back accordingly, because Timo's personal space was about the size of a small country. The very slight crinkle of Timo's nose, the curl of his lip. The natural reaction to Magnus, totally, and Ludwig was surprised that Timo didn't knock Magnus out for being so presumptuous.</p>
  <p>As usual, Magnus didn't care about how much anyone liked him, and took charge.</p>
  <p>"Is that an official agreement?" Magnus asked, very eagerly, hand so heavy on Ludwig's shoulder as he stared Timo down.</p>
  <p>Timo stared back at Magnus, face as blank as ever, before he turned his eyes to Ludwig. His lips twitched, just a bit, a slight flaring of his nostrils in what was likely excitement, and then Timo abruptly stuck out his hand, and said, "Let's talk, then. Officially."</p>
  <p>Ludwig took Timo's hand, shivering with anticipation, and Magnus let out another cry of victory.</p>
  <p>Seemed like everyone was getting what they wanted.</p>
  <p>Ludwig didn't know if <em>he </em>was, though.</p>
  <p>Still felt so lost.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Setting the Stage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p>
    <strong>Chapter 5</strong>
  </p>
  <p>
    <strong>Setting the Stage</strong>
  </p>
  <p>It was all everyone who enjoyed boxing was talking about :</p>
  <p>Finn vs. Blondie 3.</p>
  <p>The headline in the paper had stirred the pot, and now Ludwig had come into Timo's gym. It seemed very much that it was set in stone, even though nothing yet had been agreed upon. It was all over the news, everywhere Timo looked, and there was no escaping it. Ludwig and Timo didn't seem to have much of a choice, as the world had already decided that they were going to fight.</p>
  <p>Really, all there was left was to sign, and figure out the money distribution.</p>
  <p>Berwald was quite bright these days, excited and bristled, and he followed Timo around like a dumb puppy, tripping over Timo's heels. Timo couldn't escape him wherever he went, and every time Timo turned his head, he nearly cried out in terror because Berwald's nose was right there against his own, those unblinking eyes boring into Timo's.</p>
  <p>And always, always, Berwald was gushing.</p>
  <p>"I can't wait! Yer gonna be so great!"</p>
  <p>"I've got all the newspaper clippin's about it up on mah wall!"</p>
  <p>"Yer gonna be givin' the best fight ya've ever given against Blondie! It's gonna take everything ya got, I can't <em>wait</em>!"</p>
  <p>"I can't believe I get to be a part of this, it's so great!"</p>
  <p>Timo just rolled his eyes, and kept his fists very tightly clenched so that he could control them and wouldn't further break Berwald's already repeatedly broken nose.</p>
  <p>But, oh, god, was it tempting.</p>
  <p>Timo walked home from his gym one day, and there was a very large bouquet of flowers on his doorstep. He leaned down, picked them up, and nearly puked when he read the note.</p>
  <p><em> 'For good luck! You're the best!' </em>- Berwald</p>
  <p>Yuck.</p>
  <p>The date hadn't even been set, nothing yet had been agreed upon, and Berwald was already acting like Timo was marching off to actual war.</p>
  <p>What a dope.</p>
  <p>Timo walked inside, chucked the flowers straight in the trash without a second thought, and was content to channel surf in the living room until his phone rang. He grimaced yet again when he saw Berwald's name (he was gonna get wrinkles at this rate), and yet answered with a sigh.</p>
  <p>"What?"</p>
  <p><em> "Got a meeting set with Blondie's manager!" </em>Berwald enthused. <em>"Got the plane tickets and everything ready. We'll leave tomorrow afternoon. I can't wait! Get some beauty sleep."</em></p>
  <p>Timo shuddered and hung up without another word, as Berwald texted him the details of the flight.</p>
  <p>Why was he doing this again?</p>
  <p>Oh yeah—a shit ton of money. Right.</p>
  <p>Timo wasn't getting any younger and this fight would most likely secure him for the rest of his life, so Timo packed up and bit the bullet. But if he lost? His reputation would be marred. That thought was always under the surface. He was afraid to lose.</p>
  <p>The meeting was to take place in Riga. Why, Timo had no clue, but if Ludwig's manager had set it up, then it was likely just because Gilbert wanted to go out afterwards and get hammered, and Riga was cheap and lively.</p>
  <p>Timo was fine with that.</p>
  <p>Poor Ludwig. If Timo thought Berwald was bad, then he couldn't imagine how Ludwig felt, having his older brother as his manager. Ludwig was probably a saint, under it all.</p>
  <p>Timo was annoyed as hell when he boarded the plane, and he wasn't sure if it was because he had to sit next to Berwald or because he was really doing this. Couldn't believe he was going to put himself back in the ring with Ludwig. Shoulda seen it coming, though, because in some way it had always seemed rather inevitable. How long could two men like them have really gone without clashing once more? Timo shouldn't have been so blindsided.</p>
  <p>In fact, the only thing about any of this that should have really surprised Timo was just how remarkably handsome Ludwig's trainer was. Had glimpsed him for a fraction of a second, both times that they had fought previously, but when a man was punching you in the face you didn't exactly focus on anyone else.</p>
  <p>Wouldn't lie and say he wasn't looking forward to seeing that marvelous face again. Like going to a museum. Handsome face aside, though, he seemed like a massive prick, an asshole, the absolute worst sort of man, and that was even better because Timo might have had a soft spot for men who were assholes.</p>
  <p>Hated that man the second he had laid eyes upon him, and <em>really </em>wanted to see him again.</p>
  <p>Yup, he was as bad as Berwald, for sure, and had gotten knocked around too many times in the ring.</p>
  <p>He glanced over at Berwald, who was staring away at him with a very slight, crooked smile, and took that quickly back.</p>
  <p>No one was as bad as Berwald.</p>
  <p>Timo thunked his head against the side of the plane, and daydreamed about throwing Berwald through the emergency exit door. Needless to say, Berwald was alive and well when they landed, and Timo trudged along beside of him and tried to ignore Berwald's eyes burning him alive.</p>
  <p>How long would Berwald be incapacitated should Timo have smashed his glasses? Enough time for Timo to run away screaming, surely.</p>
  <p>Oh, wait, there was the hotel—too late.</p>
  <p>Damn.</p>
  <p>Timo threw his suitcase into Berwald's huge arms, and said, "Put that up, will ya? I'm gonna go get a beer."</p>
  <p>"Okay," Berwald immediately grunted, compliant as always, and smiled dumbly when Timo clapped his back as hard as he could. Had kinda wanted to knock the bastard over, but Berwald was too big and heavy.</p>
  <p>Timo turned tail, and got wasted in the city, awaiting Ludwig's arrival.</p>
  <p>The next morning, Ludwig landed, and Timo crept silently past Berwald's room to meet Ludwig in the lobby of the hotel.</p>
  <p>When Ludwig saw Timo coming, he seemed relieved, glad, and he bumped Timo's fist when it was offered amicably. Timo shook Gilbert's hand, uttered, "Long time, no see," and then he turned his eyes to Ludwig's trainer.</p>
  <p>Yup, just as handsome as Timo had hoped.</p>
  <p>That jerk, however, was less keen to offer pleasantries and more interested in giving Timo a very long rake up and down, face very unpleasant and gaze condescending. Trying to convey that he was very unimpressed with Timo, and the feeling was mutual so Timo wasn't offended. Timo didn't need that douche to be impressed; just needed him to stand there and be eye-candy, and they didn't need to get along for that.</p>
  <p>Those eyes sure were gorgeous. A darker blue yet than Berwald's, much brighter and more alert, though equally intense. Could actually get some emotion from those orbs, thank god, and it wasn't so damn creepy to be in that burning gaze.</p>
  <p>Ludwig jerked his fist out and into his trainer's side, and after a long glare, the messy-haired son of a bitch finally reached out. Timo took the offered, rough hand, and the blond grumbled, "I'm Magnus."</p>
  <p>"Timo," he dutifully replied, though it was pointless.</p>
  <p>For as unfriendly as Magnus tried to be, the handshake lasted for a very long time, long after Timo had averted his gaze to avoid uncomfortable eye contact.</p>
  <p>Another hand suddenly fell down on Timo's shoulder, and Timo actually jumped. God fucking <em>dammit</em>—</p>
  <p>Magnus snorted, derisively, and finally let go of Timo's hand, as Berwald came hovering over Timo's shoulder and said, in his very thick voice, "Good morning."</p>
  <p>Ugh, how did Berwald sound even dumber and less civilized in English? Didn't seem possible.</p>
  <p>Timo might have needed some sort of anger management. Berwald had never done a thing to Timo, and Timo still hated him. But he was a good person, totally, he really was! It wasn't because Berwald was Swedish. Really.</p>
  <p>Gilbert opened his mouth, but was cut off before he could speak, when Ludwig's trainer suddenly scrunched his face up as if deep in thought, pretty eyes running up and down Berwald, and then he asked, in a voice as handsome as his face, "Say—didn't I knock you out twenty years ago?"</p>
  <p>Timo's mouth fell open, he quickly composed himself, and merely lifted his brow as he turned to sneer over at Berwald. Ludwig looked mortified, raising a hand to the bridge of his nose and sighing. Gilbert just snorted.</p>
  <p>Berwald, for his part, seemed quite unbothered, as he looked Magnus over in turn. A long study, and then Berwald tilted his head to the side like a dog, pushed out his lips, and finally offered, "Yeah. Ya broke my nose. Ya also rabbit-punched me twice when I was down on my knee. Ya shoulda been disqualified."</p>
  <p>Timo winced, as he and Ludwig both snapped their eyes over to Magnus in offense. That was one of the worst sorts of unsportsmanlike behavior, not to mention the most dangerous. Huh; maybe that was why Berwald was a little loopy.</p>
  <p>Magnus was very unconcerned, and lifted his chin, eyes lidded and shoulders confident, to say, "Is that so? But I wasn't disqualified. I won, fair and square. Don't remember that rabbit-punch, but if you say so. I have a bad temper, what can I say? Aren't ya Swedish? That was probably why, <em>if </em>I did do it."</p>
  <p>Certainly not an apology.</p>
  <p>Timo was keen to that jab at Swedes. Erhm—not because he didn't like Swedes. He <em>was</em> a good person. <em>Really</em>. ...really.</p>
  <p>Magnus clapped a hand on Ludwig's shoulder, and teased, "I couldn't teach <em>this </em>one any of my bad habits."</p>
  <p>Naturally—Ludwig was the calmest man under pressure that Timo had ever met. Ludwig would have never lost his temper, had class and poise, dignity, and would never have been caught dead punching a man on the back of the head, less so while he was already down. Outside of the ring Ludwig could be testy sometimes, sure, but when he truly focused he was unshakeable. Ludwig would never have taken on Magnus' 'bad habits'.</p>
  <p>Some kinda troublemaker, that one. Timo kinda liked it.</p>
  <p>What caught Timo's eye in that moment, oddly enough, was Berwald. Strange, because usually Timo avoided glancing at Berwald when he didn't have to, but Berwald was suddenly quite impossible to look away from then.</p>
  <p>Berwald had honed in on Magnus, very potently, but it seemed more because Magnus had put his hand down atop Ludwig's shoulder. Suddenly, Berwald had stood up straight, squared his shoulders, bristled out to his full size and breadth (which was pretty damn impressive, Timo would give him that), and the way Berwald looked at Magnus was quite strange.</p>
  <p>Not so much angry or insulted, but Berwald was certainly feeling some kind of way. Timo couldn't really put his finger on it, because he wasn't used to getting any emotion at all from slow Berwald.</p>
  <p>Kinda looked like a guy that had seen another guy pushing a girl around and was torn between kicking his ass or dragging the girl away.</p>
  <p>In this case, though, Ludwig would have been the girl, and that made Timo snort a little.</p>
  <p>Maybe Berwald was leery of Magnus because Magnus was a blatantly violent man with a self-admitted bad temper and a penchant for hitting people when they were down in illegal ways. Berwald might have been feeling protective of Ludwig, even, because Ludwig did always look so passive and shy outside of the ring.</p>
  <p>Berwald was a strange man.</p>
  <p>Poor Ludwig <em>did</em> always look kinda out of place with the men around him, though, quiet and withdrawn as he was. Certainly had that air about him, that, ah, <em>submissive </em>vibe, the one that had attracted Ivan in the first place. Timo had always teased him about it. It only seemed that way because Ludwig was always with Gilbert, and Gilbert was so loud and domineering that it was easy to think of Ludwig as a push-over. (Because he was.)</p>
  <p>Maybe Berwald was reacting instinctively to a potential damsel in need of rescuing. Ha—would have greatly liked to see Berwald get back in the ring just to attempt to defend someone's honor. Woulda given Timo laughs for ages.</p>
  <p>Everyone was rather quiet then, as Ludwig stared at the floor and probably wanted to die a little.</p>
  <p>Gilbert suddenly took charge, as he often did, with a clearing of his throat, and said, "Well! Now that we're all here, shall we?"</p>
  <p>"Yes," Timo griped. "Let's get it over with."</p>
  <p>An hour later they were all sitting together in a fancy restaurant for brunch, in a private room and well away from prying eyes and ears.</p>
  <p>But god almighty, it was so uncomfortable to be sitting next to Berwald. Timo would rather have been Ludwig, even though Ludwig looked miserable and meek and squished there between Gilbert and Magnus.</p>
  <p>Berwald's knee kept pressing into Timo's, no matter how far away Timo scooted.</p>
  <p>Gilbert set down folders full of papers on the table, Berwald did the same, and the negotiations commenced. Naturally, Gilbert and Magnus did most of the speaking, as Berwald stared rather blankly away.</p>
  <p>Timo rested his chin on his palm and just divided his time between communicating silently with Ludwig and ogling rambling Magnus.</p>
  <p>Magnus had a few ideas that he wasn't shy to put forth, and Timo really only paid attention to him when he said, "I think it should be seventy/thirty to the winner."</p>
  <p>Gilbert and Berwald nodded along, mechanically, but Ludwig finally lifted up his eyes, sat up a little, and attempted to find his voice there between two lions.</p>
  <p>"No," was the first word Ludwig had uttered in hours. "Fifty/fifty. Whatever the outcome."</p>
  <p>Magnus sent Ludwig a look of extreme annoyance, as Gilbert studied his fingernails in apparent boredom. Berwald was still nodding along, the dumb bastard, and Timo knew that Berwald had gotten lost up in his head somewhere along the line.</p>
  <p>Magnus opened his mouth to protest, but Timo cut him off, by saying, "I agree. That's fair."</p>
  <p>Timo and Ludwig were the only people at that table who really understood the other.</p>
  <p>Magnus seemed livid, but crossed his arms over his chest because it would still be a lot of money, in the end, whoever won. Gilbert took a swig of lukewarm coffee, and merely supplied, "I'm fine with that. You?"</p>
  <p>Gilbert was addressing Berwald.</p>
  <p>There was only silence.</p>
  <p>A lowering of Gilbert's brow in annoyance, his reddish eyes narrowing.</p>
  <p>Gilbert was an extremely impatient man, and Berwald's slowness must have been incredibly grating to him.</p>
  <p>Timo glanced over, crankily, at Berwald's silence, and saw that Berwald was out in space yet again, staring away as potently as he always did, but this time right at Ludwig. Ludwig squirmed a little, and then averted his eyes back over to Timo, who rolled his own and expressed to Ludwig how much he felt for him.</p>
  <p>Ludwig lifted a brow, pursed his lips, and seemed simultaneously bemused and horrified.</p>
  <p>Perhaps Berwald found Ludwig's fairness charming.</p>
  <p>After another good few seconds of creepy Berwald-staring-silence, Timo jerked his elbow out and dug it into Berwald's side to draw the bastard out of his trance. He jumped a little, came to with an inhale, and nodded his head, dumbly, as if he had been paying attention the entire while.</p>
  <p>It was Ludwig's gorgeous trainer that time who rolled his eyes.</p>
  <p>Gilbert wasn't very amused, and asked one more time, far more aggressively, "Do you agree to that? Do we have a deal?"</p>
  <p>"Yuh," Berwald grunted, and Gilbert turned his eyes back down to the table, and began pulling out various papers and scribbling away.</p>
  <p>Everything was settled, then.</p>
  <p>Time to slap his signature on his very reputation itself.</p>
  <p>Timo was jittery. An uncommon feeling, but somehow an exciting one.</p>
  <p>During the entire signing process, Berwald just stared and stared and stared at Ludwig, potently and without waiver, and Gilbert and Magnus noticed. Gilbert scoffed and seemed amused, but Magnus was quite offended apparently, if only because Magnus just didn't like Berwald. As Berwald stared at Ludwig, Magnus stared at Berwald, and Timo heard Magnus mutter, under his breath, "<em>Blink</em>, motherfucker, won't'cha."</p>
  <p>Timo suppressed his smile, and nervously signed everything beneath him as Ludwig did the same.</p>
  <p>Was surprised Ludwig's papers didn't go up in flames, though, beneath the laser of Berwald's eyes.</p>
  <p>When the papers were signed, a date was set. November first. A good old fashioned All Hallows Eve fight. That was rather fitting. Just two months away, though, far too soon for comfort.</p>
  <p>When Timo and Ludwig shook on it, Magnus reached out and slapped the back of Ludwig's head, smartly, and Timo heard him hiss, "It shoulda been seventy/thirty! We'd get a better fight that way, with more stakes. You two are gonna fuckin' play around now."</p>
  <p>Not a chance, but Magnus was an asshole and so Timo didn't bother saying that.</p>
  <p>He was too distracted again by Berwald, who, at Magnus slapping Ludwig's head, had bolted upright from the table and once more expanded to his full size. Magnus didn't even notice, far too intent on chewing Ludwig's ear off, but Timo found it actually fascinating.</p>
  <p>Berwald looked like he was about to pull out a sword and shield and duel a fucking dragon. Someone should have reminded Berwald that Ludwig had won ten times more prizes and belts than Berwald coulda ever dreamed of winning. With one good punch Ludwig coulda knocked every man there out, heavyweights or no, but Berwald still bristled up.</p>
  <p>Timo started laughing, despite every effort not to, and Ludwig sent him a very beleaguered, pitiful look. That only made Timo laugh harder, because Timo was an asshole, too.</p>
  <p>Berwald stared Magnus down, and didn't blink.</p>
  <p>With a sigh, Gilbert stood up, finished every single cup of coffee on the table in turn, regardless of who it belonged to, winced a little, and then said, "Nice doin' business with you, you creeps. See ya in two months, and then never again."</p>
  <p>"Hear, hear," Timo grunted, and that was that.</p>
  <p>Everything was set, and everyone parted ways, as Timo and Ludwig bumped fists once more. As they walked off, Timo thought he glimpsed Magnus slap Ludwig's ass as he endlessly berated him, and the way Ludwig jumped and sighed gave Timo another fit of giggles.</p>
  <p>Berwald, as usual, was not amused, and was quite broody and huffy when they walked off down the street.</p>
  <p>Thank god they weren't staying in the same hotel as Ludwig and his guys.</p>
  <p>Timo was gonna go get smashed with Ludwig tonight, and Berwald could stay in the hotel and glower at the wall if he wanted. Better yet, he and Magnus could have a little street brawl, and Timo and Ludwig could be the ones for once to jeer and bet on them.</p>
  <p>That woulda been some kinda justice.</p>
  <p>But, jeez, two months did <em>not </em>seem like enough time, not in the slightest.</p>
  <p>Berwald suddenly uttered, very randomly, "Blondie looks a lot different in person."</p>
  <p>"How's that?" Timo asked, thoughtlessly, still agitated and very annoyed that all of this was actually going to happen.</p>
  <p>He and Ludwig were even; still didn't see why they needed a tie-breaker, and maybe that was just because Timo was afraid of losing. Only Ludwig had ever beaten him, and he was not looking forward to a recurrence, particularly given that Timo had knocked Ludwig's block off the last time and so surely Ludwig would be seeking to right that wrong. Ludwig would come out guns blazing, and Timo was much older than Ludwig and wasn't looking forward to an uphill battle.</p>
  <p>Berwald was silent for a moment, and then merely offered, "I dunno. He's different. Seems nicer, doesn't he? Pretty eyes."</p>
  <p>Timo shook his head, and sighed.</p>
  <p>Well. Ludwig did have pretty eyes, would let Berwald have that one, the weirdo.</p>
  <p>Timo snorted to himself, and tried to imagine Berwald being husband number two. Shit, Ludwig woulda really knocked his block off again if Timo tried that one. Anyone would have. A man like Berwald. Well... Ludwig <em>had</em> married Ivan, hadn't he, and Timo had always thought that Ivan was an ugly bastard, so maybe Ludwig's strange tastes would have found Berwald pleasant. To each their own, and all that.</p>
  <p>If it got Berwald off Timo's back, Timo would have gladly thrown Ludwig to the wolf.</p>
  <p>Who knew? Maybe Berwald was the 'Prince Charming' that Timo had teased Ludwig about.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was gonna slaughter him up there in the ring, Timo felt it coming, so maybe Timo could use Berwald as a little revenge afterwards by sending him out to woo Ludwig. What a damn hilarious show that would have been.</p>
  <p>Timo was greatly looking forward to it.</p>
  <p>...as much as he was looking forward to seeing that asshole Magnus once more in person.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Lost Cause</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p>
    <strong>Chapter 6</strong>
  </p>
  <p>
    <strong>Lost Cause</strong>
  </p>
  <p>If Ludwig had had one more person come up to him and say, 'I can't wait to see you take on Finn', he was gonna lean over and throw up, he swore it.</p>
  <p>Those subsequent days had been extremely annoying, as he was constantly accosted in the gym and in the bar and on the street by fans who were far more excited than Ludwig was.</p>
  <p>As annoying as Magnus.</p>
  <p>And that seemed scarcely possible, yet there it was.</p>
  <p>Speaking of Magnus.</p>
  <p>The first words Ludwig had said to Magnus back in the hotel after the catastrophic contract signing had been, "Why did you think that was necessary?"</p>
  <p>Magnus may have been all brawn, after all, because he looked quite confused, as if he actually didn't know what Ludwig was talking about.</p>
  <p>Ludwig sneered, held his arms out at his sides to make himself look bigger, and then said, in an imitation of Magnus' slang-laden speech, "'Say—didn't I knock you out twenty years ago?' You're such an ass."</p>
  <p>Magnus snorted, leered, seemed quite proud of himself, and merely shrugged a careless shoulder. "What? I <em>did </em>knock him out. Just pointing out facts."</p>
  <p>Ludwig rolled his eyes, shook his head, and then asked, cautiously, "<em>Should </em>you have been disqualified?"</p>
  <p>Magnus turned around fully to face Ludwig, lifted up his chin, and said, sternly, "I wasn't, and I went on to win the heavyweight belt. I don't stop and think about whether or not I shoulda won it. I did, and that's all. Losing isn't optional. Maybe another referee woulda disqualified me, but that one didn't. That's the way it is. All that matters is that you win. It doesn't matter how. You think anyone remembers every fight leading up to that one? They don't. They remember the final, and they remember that I won. That's all that matters."</p>
  <p>Ludwig grimaced, and averted his eyes.</p>
  <p>Magnus had always lived by the 'ends justifying the means' mantra, and Ludwig respected that, yeah, but...</p>
  <p>He wasn't like Magnus, and couldn't ever be, however hard he tried.</p>
  <p>So he kept his mouth shut and just tried to pay attention when Magnus forced him down onto his couch days later, as they watched hours and hours of Timo's fights over the years. Nothing either of them hadn't seen before, but Magnus watched it anyway, over and over and over again, until Ludwig's eyes had glazed over and he was off in space. Magnus had seen everything there was to see about Timo, and there was no way he could have possibly caught something new. There was no secret in those videos, nothing that Magnus was going to pinpoint that would give Ludwig an edge.</p>
  <p>Timo was perfect, and that was all there was to it.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was going to lose, and yet Magnus still seemed determine to make Ludwig into something he just wasn't.</p>
  <p>It was Magnus' reputation and glory that rode upon Ludwig's shoulders rather than his own.</p>
  <p>Magnus had Ludwig in the gym all day, every day for two weeks straight, and was brutal, ruthless, unforgiving. Ludwig was a good boxer, but Magnus had a passion and love for it that Ludwig sorely lacked, and when they squared off in the practice ring, gloves on, Magnus beat the hell out of Ludwig as if <em>they</em> were the ones fighting for the prize.</p>
  <p>Kinda not fair, because Magnus was a weight class above him, but Magnus had already shown how little he cared for 'fairness'. Magnus wasn't Timo, though, and so no matter how many times Magnus screamed, 'Knock me out, you useless bastard!' Ludwig just couldn't really take it too seriously.</p>
  <p>This was pointless, all of it, because even if Ludwig had managed to knock Magnus out (which seemed unlikely), it wouldn't have mattered once he got into the ring with Timo. Timo and Magnus were two entirely different beasts, two different styles, two different attitudes, two different men whose only thing in common was that they both loved the sport more than anything else.</p>
  <p>After those two weeks of Magnus beating him senseless, Magnus seemed to realize that he wasn't getting anywhere.</p>
  <p>Ludwig had a momentary breather for three days, and he used them to ice his cuts and bruises and swollen black eyes while Magnus once more took to binge-watching Timo's fights.</p>
  <p>Two days after, Magnus once more called Ludwig into the gym.</p>
  <p>This time, something was different.</p>
  <p>Magnus was an asshole, the worst kinda guy, but he was damn smart, and certainly when it came to his profession Magnus was brilliant. So brilliant, in fact, that when Ludwig stepped into the ring with him, he immediately noticed in Magnus' stance that something had shifted. The way Magnus moved and held himself that day—it took about two minutes for Ludwig to realize that Magnus was fighting like Timo.</p>
  <p>Holy shit.</p>
  <p>Magnus really <em>was</em> brilliant, and Ludwig had been admittedly awed by him, for just a moment, as Magnus nearly flawlessly mimicked Timo's effortless style of boxing.</p>
  <p>If Magnus and Timo had been in the same weight class and if Magnus hadn't been knocked out of the profession unfairly, it would have been him and Timo that had their legendary rivalry. Ludwig would have never been noticed at all.</p>
  <p>Magnus saw the look on Ludwig's face, smirked away, and said, "Maybe now we'll actually accomplish something."</p>
  <p>Ludwig blew air through his teeth, tried to keep his cool, and pretended that he wasn't scared and nervous.</p>
  <p>Taking on Timo was bad enough, but taking on Magnus imitating Timo was actually somehow a hundred times worse. Goddamn, adding on thirty pounds to Timo was like putting wings on a polar bear, and Ludwig was not looking forward to the mauling he was about to receive. He was already sore and bruised and cut, and Magnus was now flowing smoothly in a style that had so far been the only one to best Ludwig.</p>
  <p>May as well go ahead and reserve his bed in the hospital, because he was certainly going to be given a concussion in less than an hour.</p>
  <p>Or in five minutes, more like, as Magnus' gloved fist came flying at his face.</p>
  <p>God almighty, that was far too familiar, and Ludwig suddenly felt that awful dread and nervousness and fear that only came when he had stood before Timo. He froze up in a second of panic, momentarily unable to punch back, and Magnus tried to stir him from that stupor.</p>
  <p>"Come on!" Magnus goaded, punching Ludwig's shoulder far more gently. "Wake up! Come on. Pretend I'm Finn! I'm the only motherfucker that's ever knocked you out. Don't ya wanna get even? Huh? Come on!"</p>
  <p>Trying to get Ludwig out of that rut, to get him moving, but Ludwig yet felt the heaviness of anxiety.</p>
  <p>Ludwig scoffed, and retorted, "You wish you were Timo! How the hell am I supposed to pretend, when ain't nobody scared of you?"</p>
  <p>Big words with no meaning, because in that moment in time Ludwig was terrified of Magnus, if only because he really was channeling Timo.</p>
  <p>Magnus made a gruff noise of annoyance, and cried, "What? You punk! Come on, it's not so hard. Just try to picture me with those cute little baby-cheeks and big brown eyes. I'm an adorable, fluffy, murderous little teddy bear, and I'm here to rip your head off, come on!"</p>
  <p>Ludwig laughed at that, despite himself, as Magnus pushed his own cheeks up with his gloves to imitate Timo's chubby ones.</p>
  <p>It was pretty funny, he would let Magnus have that, and he tried to focus.</p>
  <p>Couldn't be scared.</p>
  <p>...adorable, huh? Pfft—next thing Ludwig knew, maybe Magnus would be slapping Timo's ass every time they came into contact with each other. ...should probably go ahead and buy Magnus a headstone and some pretty flowers, because boy would Timo murder him.</p>
  <p>To goad Ludwig further, Magnus once more punched his shoulder, and added, "What's the matter? Huh? Don't wanna pretend I'm him? How come? You two fuckin' or something? Huh? Come on! Don't bitch out! If you two <em>are </em>fuckin', then you better shape up, 'cause at this rate he's gonna leave your sorry ass like Tank did."</p>
  <p>A blaze of red to Ludwig's face, a surge of anger as Magnus had intended, and Ludwig focused a little better.</p>
  <p>That bastard.</p>
  <p>Magnus knew how to push every single one of Ludwig's buttons, and that was why Ludwig was so successful.</p>
  <p>Hurt, though.</p>
  <p>Fear turned into annoyance, and that got Ludwig fighting, yes, but in a way it was also detrimental, because Ludwig would never have felt that anger when fighting Timo, so the extra edge it gave him couldn't hope to be replicated in the real fight.</p>
  <p>Magnus tried his best, but it really shoulda been <em>him</em> fighting Timo, not Ludwig.</p>
  <p>Nothing for it, and Ludwig tried his best to keep up with Magnus and find a way to break through his defense. Not so easy, because Timo was impenetrable at best. Timo was quicker, smarter, more confident than Ludwig, and Magnus truly was his twin in that sense.</p>
  <p>Magnus mimicked Timo fluidly, and was nearly perfect, but there was one little thing that Magnus could never control; his equilibrium. Magnus was perfect, but his balance was not, and when Magnus tottered to one side, uneven and likely dizzy, Ludwig struck and knocked him down.</p>
  <p>In that, Magnus could never truly imitate Timo, and for that Ludwig would never get the sort of practice he needed.</p>
  <p>Magnus cursed as he hit the ground, fist slamming onto the mat in a rage, and Ludwig didn't say a word because Magnus was extremely touchy and volatile when it came to the topic of the very thing that had knocked him out of the professional scene.</p>
  <p>Curiously enough, though, when Magnus propped himself up on his elbows, he squinted through his sweat and asked, quite randomly, "But, say—<em>are </em>you two fuckin'?"</p>
  <p>Not as angry as Ludwig anticipated, but likely because Magnus was oddly distracted by that.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was curious about Magnus' curiosity, for sure, and considered for half a second leaving him hanging, letting him wonder, but in the end he merely said, "Not a chance."</p>
  <p>Magnus smirked, and Ludwig could only imagine why, the jerk.</p>
  <p>Magnus pulled himself to his feet, shook his head and closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth as he struggled to correct his equilibrium, and a moment later he lifted his head.</p>
  <p>Ready to go.</p>
  <p>Magnus came at him again, and Ludwig held out for a while, but without the advantage of Magnus' bad balance that time, Ludwig was the one to fall when Magnus got in an uppercut to his chin.</p>
  <p>Ludwig fell to his knee, and Magnus berated him.</p>
  <p>He stood up, gathered what sense he had left, and tried again. Once more, Magnus knocked him down. And then one more time.</p>
  <p>And then again.</p>
  <p>When Ludwig fell to his knee the fifth time, Magnus' bad temper came to the surface, and that time he snarled in frustration and kicked Ludwig in the chest to knock him onto his back.</p>
  <p>Dazed and hurt and sick with adrenaline, Ludwig just lied there for a while and stared at the gym ceiling as his head spun. Failure, utter failure. Magnus wasn't even who he was really scared of, and yet he couldn't take Magnus down. Timo was gonna slaughter him—</p>
  <p>Ludwig sat up at the waist, as Magnus cursed and steadily lost control of his temper. His face was red, his pupils dilated, nostrils flared, and Magnus was furious by the time Ludwig pulled himself up to his feet.</p>
  <p>"You're gonna fuckin' <em>lose</em>!" Magnus shrieked, as he ripped his gloves off and threw them in Ludwig's face. Ludwig braced and flinched, as Magnus stomped around the ring angrily, hands gesturing wildly in the air as he suddenly began ranting. "<em>Unbelievable</em>! You've had ten goddamn years to figure this out, <em>ten </em>fuckin' years, and you still can't do it! What's so hard about it, huh? You've never lost to anyone else! What about <em>him </em>is so goddamn hard for you? Huh? Are you that goddamn <em>stupid</em>? Are ya? What's the matter with you? You useless bastard! This is the fight everyone is gonna remember, for the rest of your miserable life, and you can't get up off your knee long enough to get a hit in!"</p>
  <p>Ludwig hung his head in silent submission as Magnus took his anger out on Ludwig, as he had for the past eighteen years.</p>
  <p>Magnus just kept on and on, seemingly unable to stop once he started.</p>
  <p>Magnus could never fight again, and as it had been with Ivan, he didn't think it was fair that Ludwig could and wasn't living up to expectations.</p>
  <p>Ludwig managed to speak up long enough to rumble, weakly, "Sorry."</p>
  <p>Magnus stalked over and slapped him, shouting, "I don't want your fuckin' sorries! I want ya to start being good at something for once! I want ya to get your shit together before you embarrass us both in front of the entire world! I don't understand why this is so hard for you! I'm putting everything you need right here in front of you, everything, and you still can't do anything with it! Ya got every possible thing you need right here, and you can't put it all together! I won't let him win again, I won't! Only one of you can be the best, and I've done everything I can to get it out of you, but you just can't— You can't fuckin'—"</p>
  <p>Magnus was too angry then to form more comprehensible speech, gave a snarled noise of frustration, and curled his fingers in the air as if he were two seconds away from wrapping his hands around Ludwig's throat and strangling him.</p>
  <p>A long sputter, and then one final statement.</p>
  <p>"You're so fuckin' useless, no wonder he left ya, anyone would have! I'm so sick of you! I shoulda found someone else!"</p>
  <p>Oh—</p>
  <p>Ludwig lifted the bottom of his damp tank top, and he meant to wipe his face with it. That was the intention, but something went wrong along the way. Everything just rushed up out of nowhere. Frustration and hurt and the overwhelming sensation of drowning even as he stood on dry land. Everything seemed like too much, sometimes.</p>
  <p>Ludwig could never really have explained why he buried his face in his shirt and burst into tears.</p>
  <p>Maybe he wasn't coping with everything as well as he thought he was.</p>
  <p>Magnus must have been quite startled, for Ludwig could hear him stammering a bit in disbelief as he attempted to discern whether Ludwig actually was crying or not.</p>
  <p>Humiliating, absolutely humiliating, but Ludwig was too far gone to stop. He had cried himself senseless in his bedroom a thousand times, sure, but never had he broken down like this in front of someone else. Had always been too proud for that, but there was no stopping it.</p>
  <p>Ludwig bawled so hard in that second that he made himself cough a little, face still buried stupidly in his shirt as if that would somehow prevent Magnus from realizing that he was collapsing.</p>
  <p>A horrible silence, and then a gruff whisper.</p>
  <p>"Hey... Knock it off."</p>
  <p>He couldn't. No stopping it, not now, because he was so frustrated and overwhelmed that he felt as if he were going to just collapse in on himself like a star.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was always somewhere, always with someone, always doing something, and yet he always felt so lost, alone, and confused. Never where he wanted to be, never with who he wanted to see, never doing what he wanted, because he didn't <em>know </em>what he wanted.</p>
  <p>Didn't even know who he was.</p>
  <p>Another whisper, yet lower.</p>
  <p>"Lutz. Stop. Come on."</p>
  <p>Magnus was the worst, a complete asshole, a very overbearing and domineering specimen of a man, just the worst kinda guy, but underneath it all Magnus was a good person. He may not have thought he was, may not have tried to be, may not have even <em>wanted </em>to be, but he was. The farthest thing from perfect, but only human.</p>
  <p>So Magnus finally spat a curse and came forward, wrapping his arms around Ludwig and forcing Ludwig's face into his neck.</p>
  <p>A long, awkward silence, before Magnus slumped a little, and he finally uttered, so deeply, "I'm sorry."</p>
  <p>Ludwig shook his head in Magnus' neck, because he wasn't even really sure that he was crying because of anything Magnus had said.</p>
  <p>He felt lost at sea.</p>
  <p>A firmer grip, as Magnus' embrace became far more sincere, and Magnus buried his face in Ludwig's hair, repeating, "I'm sorry. Come on. Stop cryin'. Please. I hate that. Come on. It's... It's gonna be alright, man. I didn't mean to say that. Even if you lose— Even if he ain't there anymore, it's not the end of the world. Trust me. I— I know that feeling, I do. I know what it feels like when the thing you love most is gone. You can't ever let it get to you. You can't just stop."</p>
  <p>Ludwig cried harder, somehow, and reached up to clench his fingers in Magnus' shirt as he sobbed.</p>
  <p>Felt in some way as if he wanted to go home, and didn't know where the hell that even was. Didn't want to be here, but didn't really want to be anywhere else, either.</p>
  <p>Always alone, in some sense. An entire world around him, and yet Ludwig always felt disconnected from it.</p>
  <p>Magnus pulled back, forced Ludwig's bleary gaze, rested a hand on the back of his head and pushed their foreheads together, and muttered, "I'm an asshole, I know. I'm sorry about it. It's just— I'm a lost cause, and I don't want you to be, too."</p>
  <p>Ludwig wanted to say, 'I don't <em>care </em>if I lose, because I don't care about this sport and my reputation', but he choked, because those words would have hurt Magnus too much. Magnus always aimed to wound him, to rile him up, to spur him on, but Ludwig just couldn't bring himself to break Magnus' heart in turn.</p>
  <p>So he stayed silent, and got out the last of his tears as Magnus held him steady by the back of the neck.</p>
  <p>A terrible day, miserable, and an hour later Ludwig was lying alone on his couch at home, face pushed into the cushion and breathing through his mouth. He continued crying himself into oblivion as soon as Magnus was out of his sight, and swore he spent the next two hours bawling into his couch and making himself sick.</p>
  <p>Pitiful.</p>
  <p>When his ears were pounding and his head hurt and his eyes were puffy, Ludwig's damn phone rang. He blearily reached for it, and answered without looking at it.</p>
  <p>"Hello?"</p>
  <p>Gilbert's voice, gruff and scratchy.</p>
  <p>
    <em> "You got a press conference in two days. Think of something good to say, for once. Don't just stand there and look like a dumbass. Maybe try to actually get people riled up. Promoting just started."</em>
  </p>
  <p>Ludwig sat up a little, rubbing at his sore eyes, and immediately took note of Gilbert's slur.</p>
  <p>Goddammit—</p>
  <p>"Are you high?" he asked, voice nasally and thick, and Gilbert scoffed.</p>
  <p><em> "Mind your business," </em>was the snitty reply, and Ludwig had already known the answer before he had even asked the question. Knew that slur far too well; he had grown up with Gilbert self-destructing. He had been five years old and slapping Gilbert's cheek when he overdosed and passed out on the couch.</p>
  <p>"You've been doin' great," Ludwig tried, in a gentler voice, as he continued rubbing his eyes. "Don't slip up now, man."</p>
  <p>
    <em> "I said don't worry about it! It's nothin'—it's just all this fuckin' stress. This goddamn fight is keeping me up at night."</em>
  </p>
  <p>"You get the money, even if I lose—"</p>
  <p><em> "You're not gonna lose," </em>Gilbert immediately snapped, and Ludwig once more felt that awful rush of adrenaline that came with letting someone down. Gilbert was his big brother, alright, because he could always make Ludwig feel like a guilty little kid. <em>"You can't lose. You can't. This is what's gonna make you immortal, ya know? You can't lose."</em></p>
  <p>Ludwig fell down onto his back, rolled miserably onto his side, knees drawn up, and muttered, "You sound like Magnus."</p>
  <p>
    <em> "Good. Someone oughta. Get your head in the game. You have to win this. Why aren't you taking this seriously? Don't'cha know what I'd give to be where you are? I fuckin' blew it, man, and so you have to win. Maybe I'll... You don't know what I'd do to be in your spot. That shoulda been me. You can't lose."</em>
  </p>
  <p>Ludwig covered his eyes with his palm as another wave of tears threatened to come up, and all Ludwig could do was utter thinly, in a whine, "Okay," and hang up.</p>
  <p>Too much pressure, too many expectations, too many people demanding his success to pretend it was their own.</p>
  <p>They put their faith into the wrong person.</p>
  <p>'I don't want ya to be a lost cause,' Magnus had said.</p>
  <p>Magnus didn't know that Ludwig already felt like a lost cause.</p>
  <p>Ludwig would lose, and Magnus would consider Ludwig his second great lifetime disappointment. Gilbert would roll his eyes and call Ludwig useless, as he steadily relapsed. Ludwig would <em>lose</em>, and Magnus would hang up his gloves forever and consider himself a failure, and Gilbert would fall back into drugs. Both of them would fall when Ludwig did.</p>
  <p>Seemed like Ludwig just tanked the lives of everyone around him straight into the dirt.</p>
  <p>He <em>missed </em>Ivan.</p>
  <p>Two months went by far too quickly, and suddenly Timo was waiting.</p>
  <p>Ludwig felt more like he was walking to the gallows.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Grudge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p>
    <strong>Chapter 7</strong>
  </p>
  <p>
    <strong>The Grudge</strong>
  </p>
  <p>The time had come.</p>
  <p>Timo was nervous as could be, jittery and pumped full of adrenaline. That horrible and yet wonderful thrill of anticipation. Waiting for something you desperately wanted and yet also hoped would never come.</p>
  <p>Those days before the match dragged, swear they did, and Timo's mood was not helped by the fact that Berwald wouldn't shut the hell up about Ludwig.</p>
  <p>Christ almighty, Timo could never remember wanting to punch Berwald as badly as he had for these past two months, and that was remarkable because he had <em>always</em> daydreamed about punching Berwald.</p>
  <p>If 'Blondie' had come outta Berwald's mouth one more time—</p>
  <p>'Say, you and Blondie need to be real careful up there, I don't wanna see either of ya too banged up.'</p>
  <p>'Ya think Blondie is okay? With <em>that </em>guy, ya know.'</p>
  <p>'Don't ya ever worry about Blondie bein' stuck with those two jerks?'</p>
  <p>'Ya think Blondie is okay? ...huh? Timo? Don't ya? Huh? Ya think Blondie is okay?'</p>
  <p><em> Grr</em>—!</p>
  <p>Most of the time, Timo stayed silent and ignored fretting Berwald, and sometimes he snapped and barked, harshly, 'I'm sure Blondie is just <em>fine</em>. I've felt how hard he can punch. I think he can handle himself.'</p>
  <p>Berwald would just purse his lips, oblivious to Timo's tone, and furrow his brow as he murmured, 'Mm—I dunno. He's so quiet. Hate thinkin' 'bout him gettin' pushed around.'</p>
  <p>Timo sighed, rolled his eyes, and walked away.</p>
  <p>When had Berwald become Ludwig's knight in shining armor? Ludwig really didn't have any luck at all. Poor guy. Timo sure did feel for him in advance.</p>
  <p>Berwald had been perpetually lost up in his head for those short two months, and Timo did notice that Berwald wasn't hovering over him quite as much as he normally had. He was beyond grateful for that, and so that was why he put up with Berwald's random mutters about Blondie.</p>
  <p>Ludwig hadn't spoken one single word to Berwald, not one word, and yet Berwald seemed suddenly obsessed with him.</p>
  <p>Berwald had a very one-track mind. Couldn't focus on more than one thing at a time, couldn't juggle multiple emotions and ideas and activities, just wasn't mentally capable of too much complexity, and for now it seemed that Magnus had jolted Berwald from Timo's track and onto Ludwig's.</p>
  <p>Was gonna kiss that asshole when he saw him again.</p>
  <p>...hopefully.</p>
  <p>Anyway, Timo couldn't worry about Berwald driving him up the wall too much, now that he was faced with Ludwig driving him to the hospital. Ludwig was gonna wreck him, Timo was so sure of it, and no matter how hard Timo had trained, how much he had practiced, he just felt a little intimidated. Ludwig's age was an undeniable advantage, even though Timo felt the same as he had at twenty. Maybe it was time to gracefully accept that his reign was over. It was Ludwig's time to shine, and Timo was scared to lose to him, but wasn't really interested in holding it against him or mourning his reputation.</p>
  <p>He had done enough. He was proud of what he had accomplished, win or lose.</p>
  <p>Sure was nervous, though, on the flight out. Berwald was fidgeting restlessly next to him, though likely from excitement.</p>
  <p>The fight was to be held in the neutral land of London, because this was a high-stakes prizefight, and no one needed the advantage of the home team.</p>
  <p>Two days before the fight, Timo landed in London, and waited anxiously in his hotel room, sworn off of alcohol for the next forty-eight hours. That made him cranky, particularly when he had to be in close quarters with Berwald, and so Timo barricaded himself in his room and ate oatmeal like it was going out of style.</p>
  <p>Lame.</p>
  <p>He texted Ludwig in the meanwhile, ignoring Berwald always tapping on his door and calling, eagerly, "Do ya need anything? Timo? Can I get ya somethin'? Timo?"</p>
  <p>Ludwig was in the city, too, but they couldn't meet up before the fight, to keep the pressure on.</p>
  <p>Timo didn't sleep too well, anxious as he was, and when he was being driven to the arena, his stomach was twisting. Berwald was shifting around again, hands clenched in his lap, and from the pursing of his lips and the twitching of his face, Timo was pretty sure that Berwald was internally squealing.</p>
  <p>Timo went into autopilot as soon as he was in the arena, because that was how he had to focus. It was a routine, a familiar one, and he just stopped thinking. He pulled on his trunks, wrapped his hands, settled his mind, all the while as Berwald skittered around behind him like Gilbert after six cups of coffee and three lines of cocaine.</p>
  <p>Too many people. The arena was full. Loud. Cameras everywhere.</p>
  <p>Timo wasn't sure anymore if he was terrified or elated.</p>
  <p>He just looked around for Ludwig, sought him out, because that was the only person in the entire arena that Timo knew he could be comfortable around.</p>
  <p>Caught a glint of his hair in the bright lights, and made a beeline for him.</p>
  <p>He did stop, however, because Ludwig was speaking to someone.</p>
  <p>A familiar face.</p>
  <p>Timo straightened up, focused his gaze to make sure he wasn't seeing things, and he wasn't : Ludwig was being accosted, alright, but not by a reporter. Ivan. The hell was <em>he</em> doing here? Timo lifted his chin and crept slowly through the crowd, because Ludwig was his buddy and Timo was sometimes oddly protective of him. As bad as Berwald, maybe, under it all.</p>
  <p>He was close enough to hear them speaking to each other.</p>
  <p>"—are you here?"</p>
  <p>"To wish you luck. I was waiting for <em>this </em>for years."</p>
  <p>Ludwig lowered his eyes to Ivan's chest, as cameras flashed, and Timo knew that this would be all over the papers tomorrow, regardless of who won tonight. Ludwig knew it, too, and that was why he looked so uncomfortable.</p>
  <p>"Weren't you in America?"</p>
  <p>"Yeah. I flew over to come see you. To... Well."</p>
  <p>Ludwig looked miserable, poor thing, shoulders utterly slumped and eyes still low.</p>
  <p>Ivan reached out, and clapped a hand on Ludwig's shoulder.</p>
  <p>"Good luck. I know— Whatever happens, you know I'm always in your corner. Always. Even..."</p>
  <p>Ivan trailed off, looking as uneasy as Ludwig felt, and that was when Timo swooped in suddenly to save him. He came in, settled into Ludwig's side, and asked, "Ready to go?"</p>
  <p>Ivan stared away at Timo as Ludwig looked like he wanted to sink into the ground and die, and after a silence Ivan said, out of courtesy, "Good luck tonight."</p>
  <p>Timo lifted his chin in acknowledgement, Ivan sent Ludwig one more prying gaze, and then he took the hint and walked off. Ludwig exhaled, and grumbled, "Thanks."</p>
  <p>"Don't mention it," Timo whispered back. "The next round is just on you."</p>
  <p>"That's three in a row," Ludwig hissed, and Timo clapped his back.</p>
  <p>"I know! You're great."</p>
  <p>They stood before each other in that final moment as equals, eyes locked and attempting to convey to each other that, no matter what happened, they were still friends. One of them would have one more victory than the other, and that was all.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was in a rough place now, was down and out, low, insecure, and Timo didn't want that to mess up the fight. Didn't want Ludwig to hold back, didn't want Ludwig to falter, didn't want Ludwig to think that if he won he would lose one of the only friends he had.</p>
  <p>It wouldn't be that way, and from Ludwig's weak smile then, Timo was pretty sure he had gotten the message.</p>
  <p>Good.</p>
  <p>Timo offered, as was his duty as a friend, "Good luck, kiddo. You're gonna need it."</p>
  <p>Ludwig lifted his chin, and tossed back, "Likewise, old man. Your twilight years are beginning. Your era is over. Starting tonight."</p>
  <p>Oof!</p>
  <p>Timo punched Ludwig's arm, they smiled at each other (Timo was pretty sure he was smiling, anyway), and they parted ways for a while. The next time Timo saw Ludwig would be up in the ring, and he was nervous as hell about it, but also extremely excited.</p>
  <p>The fight of his life, according to the world.</p>
  <p>Time slowed for him then, as his senses heightened and adrenaline kicked in. Timo walked steadily and surely when he was led up to the ring. Ludwig was just as perfectly stoic when he passed through the ropes. Berwald took his place behind Timo, as Gilbert and Magnus did behind Ludwig. A loud, dutiful playing of the Finnish and German national anthems.</p>
  <p>Timo didn't really hear it, singing along mindlessly as he gave Magnus a good ogle. Magnus seemed torn between staring at Timo and glaring at Berwald, and Berwald, naturally, was staring piercingly at his new favorite thing.</p>
  <p>Ludwig stared off into absolutely nothing as Gilbert fidgeted and twitched.</p>
  <p>And here it was.</p>
  <p>Years and years, fight after fight, whispers and rumors and hopes, and now Ludwig and Timo finally faced off for one more battle. The defining one.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was in his element in that moment, no longer passive and shy, perfectly stony and icy, gaze set and emotionless, focused and sharp. When Ludwig was at his absolute best, and Timo felt in that second that same shuddering thrill that had run through him the very first time he had stood before this kid ten years ago.</p>
  <p>The only real excitement Timo ever got came from Ludwig.</p>
  <p>It was Gilbert who seemed the most anxious, surprisingly. Gilbert was a strange man, very materialistic, so he should have been the most at ease, knowing he would get the same amount of money whether Ludwig won or lost. But then Gilbert kept on rubbing at his nose, and Timo realized he wasn't anxious—he was just high as fuck. Eh. Surprised Ludwig hadn't punched Gilbert and knocked his block off yet.</p>
  <p>So many people had invested too much of their own lives and ego into this fight, and the two people who had the most right to do so couldn't have cared less about the outcome.</p>
  <p>The world was strange.</p>
  <p>Suddenly, too soon, it was just Timo and Ludwig left in the ring, head and mouth guards in place, the referee between them, and the hairs on the back of Timo's neck stood up. A strange, terrifying elation. Low words, as the referee laid down the law. Timo and Ludwig bumped gloves, and it was time.</p>
  <p>All that time that had passed, so many years, had all led up to this.</p>
  <p>Timo was so riled up, so jittery, so amped, that when the bell rang he very nearly jumped.</p>
  <p>The first round began.</p>
  <p>Timo fell into position and watched Ludwig's feet, to see who he would be emulating today. Ludwig was a master of mimicry, the only reason Ludwig had ever beat him to begin with, and it took Timo just a few seconds to see that Ludwig was imitating <em>him</em>. For now. Every round would probably be different. Timo almost couldn't remember how the hell he had beaten that fabricated pattern to knock this brat out, but sure as hell needed a repeat, because Ludwig was too clever for him otherwise. Timo's entire reputation rested on this fight, because this would be the fight that everyone remembered.</p>
  <p>If he was gonna lose, then he would do so in a blaze of glory.</p>
  <p>It was understandably a bit unnerving to fight against yourself, in a sense, as Ludwig effortlessly turned Timo's very moves and patterns against him. Timo had always known this was coming, and could only try to be himself, because Ludwig would expect him to change up his style.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was the ultimate thorn in the side.</p>
  <p>If Timo fought as he always fought, Ludwig would expect that and use it against him, but if Timo changed his style, Ludwig would see that coming and use it against him. Couldn't see a clear path to victory either way, because Ludwig was smarter than Timo was.</p>
  <p>That said, Timo did land the first real blow, and then the second and third, but he quickly fell back after because it felt sometimes like Ludwig was baiting him into some trap. Ludwig made him nervous. Anxious. Only Ludwig had ever made Timo doubt himself.</p>
  <p>Already, though, Ludwig was bleeding a little, a small cut above his eye dripping over his brow.</p>
  <p>The first round suddenly ended rather uneventfully, and Ludwig continued to emulate Timo for the next round, and the one after.</p>
  <p>Berwald was extremely alert, extremely focused, looking more wide-awake than Timo had ever seen him. Magnus was as loud and vociferous as always, as Gilbert shuffled around restlessly in his high.</p>
  <p>Round three.</p>
  <p>Ludwig imitated Gilbert.</p>
  <p>Flighty, quick, very evasive, not throwing as many punches as he pulled, an extremely annoying style meant to rile his opponent up and make them sloppy. Ludwig knew that Timo wouldn't fall for that, but it <em>was </em>slightly annoying all the same. Like a damn fly buzzing around his head. Gilbert had always had a knack for driving his opponents up the wall, and Ludwig certainly took after his brother flawlessly.</p>
  <p>Punk.</p>
  <p>So far, though, neither of them had had a grand breakthrough and made a debilitating blow.</p>
  <p>Evenly matched, as they often were.</p>
  <p>Berwald was on his toes, grabbing the ropes and gawking in.</p>
  <p>Round six.</p>
  <p>Ludwig imitated his ex-husband's style, and Timo imagined that somewhere in the crowd Ivan was positively beaming.</p>
  <p>Timo was <em>not </em>beaming, because Ludwig was punching him in the head far too many times, as Ivan's style was extremely centered on offense. Ludwig went from evasive to full on massacre, and Timo felt the pressure (and the pain).</p>
  <p>...Ludwig was kinda pissin' him off now, and that was probably intentional but it was grating Timo's nerves all the same, and he might have punched Ludwig back slightly more aggressively than he meant to, which naturally split Ludwig's thin skin.</p>
  <p>Three minutes of Ivan's style was too goddamn much, and Timo was very, very glad to hear the bell.</p>
  <p>Timo threw himself down, and Berwald immediately came skittering up to him, bristled in excitement, and cried, over the ruckus, "He's <em>great</em>!"</p>
  <p>And Timo thought that Berwald was talking about <em>him</em>, obviously, to someone else, but when Timo glanced over his shoulder, Berwald was leaning against the ring and gawking breathlessly at Ludwig, who was being pushed around by Magnus.</p>
  <p>That son of a—!</p>
  <p>Berwald was absolutely taken with Ludwig, it seemed. Berwald had been Timo's biggest fan. When the hell had this little infatuation come about? Not that Timo shoulda been complaining, because Berwald creeped him out, but now was <em>not</em> the time or place for Berwald to suddenly gush over someone else. That big, dumb son of a bitch was still<em> Timo's</em> manager! Timo was getting pummeled and Berwald was practically squealing like a schoolgirl over the man doing the pummeling.</p>
  <p>Timo huffed, as Magnus and Gilbert slapped Ludwig's back and goaded him.</p>
  <p>Ludwig continued to mimic Ivan for the next two rounds, and Timo's head was absolutely splitting open with agony, even though Ludwig was the one bleeding all over the place, cut all up to hell already.</p>
  <p>Round nine.</p>
  <p>Ludwig imitated someone else, and Timo didn't know who it was. Had seen it several times before, but had never known to whom that style belonged.</p>
  <p>It occurred very suddenly to Timo, as a loud voice next to them jeered, that it very well could have been Magnus' style. Had been all along, and Timo had just never realized it. Seemed like something that jerk would pull off; not as evasive as Gilbert's, but very provocative, aggressive, bold.</p>
  <p>Ludwig uppercut Timo more in that round than Timo had ever been uppercut in his entire career, he was sure of it.</p>
  <p>Did Timo have the authority to ground Ludwig? Because he was gonna ground this little shit, he swore it, was gonna lock Ludwig up forever on permanent corner-sitting time. An eternal time-out—</p>
  <p>Another uppercut made him lose his train of thought, and also his mouth guard.</p>
  <p>Fuck.</p>
  <p>The bell was beautiful.</p>
  <p>As he plopped down, Timo looked over his shoulder, expecting to see Berwald. He didn't. He sat up straight, looked around, and saw that Berwald had migrated from Timo's corner to the other end, closer to Ludwig's side.</p>
  <p>That bastard.</p>
  <p>Berwald seemed to have momentarily forgotten that Timo existed, eyes locked on Blondie, and Timo cursed to himself as he grabbed his own towel and water.</p>
  <p>Oh, yeah, Ludwig was grounded. The first words outta Timo's mouth when this was done would be, 'Go to your room!'</p>
  <p>Berwald grabbed the ropes in his hands, leaned forward, and gazed up at Ludwig as if he were seeing the sun rise for the very first time. Maybe Timo would have been more inclined to think that that was cute if Ludwig wasn't very close to ending Timo. Had Timo dropped dead right then from Ludwig's blow, Berwald woulda smiled dumbly and clapped. Was it because Berwald had been so worried about Ludwig being with Magnus? Maybe that was the look of a man who had shown up to fight off the dragon, only for the damsel in distress to pull out a shield and sword and vanquish the damn thing themselves.</p>
  <p>Sometimes, Timo <em>really </em>wanted to go ahead and retire.</p>
  <p>The final round.</p>
  <p>In a way, Timo was exceptionally annoyed that he had been unable to replicate the past and knock Ludwig out. So far, Ludwig had been phenomenal, completely flawless, and Timo couldn't seem to break through and take him down.</p>
  <p>Only had once chance left, because if the judges decided, as they had once before, Ludwig was going to win.</p>
  <p>Timo's only chance at victory now lied in his ability to summon up something in this final round and knock that pale bastard out.</p>
  <p>But Ludwig was still mimicking Magnus, that unusually irritating style that made Timo's blood pressure rise, and no matter how hard Timo tried to break in and knock Ludwig over with his strongest blows, something in Ludwig held him upright. Stubbornness, perhaps, given to him by Gilbert and Magnus.</p>
  <p>For a second though, one hopeful second, Timo got in a surprise uppercut, and Ludwig stumbled very briefly down to one knee.</p>
  <p>A rush of hope.</p>
  <p>Timo rushed forward, very much intending to finish Ludwig before he could get back up, but he wasn't quick enough, and Ludwig suddenly sprung up, shifting from Magnus' style to Ivan's without Timo really even figuring out that it had happened.</p>
  <p>A very powerful blow to Timo's head. A daze of stars.</p>
  <p>That strange, surreal feeling that came from being on the very brink of consciousness.</p>
  <p>Like hell—</p>
  <p>Timo hadn't been knocked out once, not once, and it wasn't gonna happen now, not now, not here, not to this punk, he had come too damn far for that. Timo held himself up, against all odds, but maybe only because Ludwig didn't charge at him and put him down. For whatever reason, Ludwig didn't finish Timo, and Timo didn't know why.</p>
  <p>Maybe, in the back of his mind, Ludwig really was scared to win, although surely he must have also been terrified of losing.</p>
  <p>The bell rang, and that was it.</p>
  <p>Timo had been quite literally saved by the bell.</p>
  <p>Over. It was over, all of it, and Timo hadn't been able to put Ludwig to bed. Hadn't been able to replicate that one little moment of perfection he had once had, and for that, Timo was finished.</p>
  <p>He shook his head to clear it as best he could, tried to push away those stars, and looked around at the roaring crowd. Probably the last time he would ever see it, because he was pretty sure his time was over.</p>
  <p>Timo stood still and stoic to face the judges, but in his heart he knew that he had lost.</p>
  <p>Ludwig had been better, all there was to it, and would claim victory.</p>
  <p>Beside of him, Ludwig was just as poised, pale face and neck smeared with blood as he stared ahead at attention. Timo had come into this knowing he would lose, but in some way it was still shocking to him.</p>
  <p>The sting of being second-best.</p>
  <p>The first judge gave their score.</p>
  <p>114 - 113, to Ludwig.</p>
  <p>Timo knew it was coming, but still felt the twist of his stomach, as Magnus gave a loud cry of premature victory at Ludwig's side. Who could ever truly accept the end of their grand reign without a little bit of regret?</p>
  <p>The second judge.</p>
  <p>112 - 113, to Timo.</p>
  <p>Timo gawked at that in shock, because he hadn't seen that one coming at all, when he felt that Ludwig had been the superior boxer all throughout. Magnus clearly felt the same, as he shouted again, but this time far more angrily.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was blank faced, stoic, stiff as a statue and unblinking, giving away nothing.</p>
  <p>Timo's heart was pounding.</p>
  <p>And then, the final judge gave his tiebreaker.</p>
  <p>Only...he <em>didn't</em>.</p>
  <p>113 - 113.</p>
  <p>A tie.</p>
  <p>A—a <em>what</em>?</p>
  <p>Ludwig and Timo turned to look at each other, both stupefied and dumbfounded, shocked and appalled. Ludwig's handsome trainer slammed a fist down on the nearest surface and cried, loudly, "<em>Hey</em>—that's some fuckin' <em>bullshit</em>!"</p>
  <p>Gilbert looked offended, as appalled as Ludwig did.</p>
  <p>And Berwald?</p>
  <p>Berwald, the big fuckin' idiot, just raised his hands up and clapped very exuberantly along with the crowd, smiling and quite giddy, staring up yet breathlessly at Ludwig.</p>
  <p>Ludwig's shoulders slumped, Timo hung his head, and that was that.</p>
  <p>Pointless.</p>
  <p>Timo hated that feeling he had then, because somehow this seemed worse than defeat. Felt almost guilty in some way, because he truly did think that Ludwig had been better. Felt as if had been given a lifeline that he hadn't deserved.</p>
  <p>Everything faded once more into a blur, as Timo trailed along where Berwald led.</p>
  <p>When the reporters were in his face and the microphones were practically touching his nose, Timo tried to come out of his daze. Voices all around, a million questions, as Berwald stood patiently beside him.</p>
  <p>One question came through the buzzing.</p>
  <p>"Are you disappointed in tonight's decision?"</p>
  <p>Yes he was, but not for the reasons they assumed.</p>
  <p>Timo looked around, dumbly, and could see bloody Ludwig a distance away, being just as hassled. Ludwig's lips were moving, softly, as he seemed yet stunned, and because Timo knew that Ludwig wasn't talking shit about him, he did the same, and merely grunted, "Nah—seems fair."</p>
  <p>What else could he say? Perhaps they had been evenly matched after all, although Timo disagreed. He still had a reputation to think about, and couldn't openly admit that he disagreed with the judges and that Ludwig should have won.</p>
  <p>Magnus sure as hell wasn't being neutral or polite, as Timo could hear his loud voice all the way over the ruckus, as he bitched, "It's bad judging, if you ask me!"</p>
  <p>Kinda.</p>
  <p>Berwald, for his part, seemed quite happy still, all but bouncing on his heels as he offered a reporter a very cheery, "Nah, I think it's great! They were both amazin', weren't they? I had a great time."</p>
  <p>No doubt of that, and Timo zoned out and tried to die inside so that he could make it home without keeling over.</p>
  <p>Timo did glimpse, at the last second, Ivan, trying desperately to break through the crowd and get over to Ludwig. Timo didn't hang around long enough to see if he had been successful. Ivan was probably elated and flattered that Ludwig had still used his style, even after their messy divorce. Hoped Ivan's presence wouldn't ruin however much work Timo had put into raising Ludwig's spirits, but he just couldn't find the will to hang around and intercept again.</p>
  <p>He was a little preoccupied.</p>
  <p>A draw. Incredible. Who had ever heard of such a thing, with such stakes and such endless promotion? It wasn't uncommon, nah, but Timo found it somehow earth-shattering. At least until he was in the back of the car, and then he remembered that he was still getting paid, regardless, and that made him feel a little better. It did agitate him, though, under the surface, that he hadn't been able to put that kid down.</p>
  <p>But, oh! Had that ever been a thrill.</p>
  <p>The shiver that Ludwig brought out in Timo lasted long after Ludwig was gone. It was enough to keep Timo's mood bright, even when Berwald chewed his ear off with a million fretting questions about Blondie.</p>
  <p>Ah...</p>
  <p>Life was strange.</p>
  <p>Timo should have known, really, that the world wasn't as easily placated as Timo and Ludwig were, and wouldn't accept a tie.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Rain All Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p>
    <strong>Chapter 8</strong>
  </p>
  <p>
    <strong>Rain All Day</strong>
  </p>
  <p>Ludwig didn't even catch up on desperately needed (and deserved) beauty sleep before his fucking phone was ringing well before dawn. Jerks—didn't they care that some expressionless rock had beaten him senseless the night before?</p>
  <p>He reached out, grumpily, found his phone, pulled it to his ear without even opening his eyes, and answered, roughly, "What do you want?"</p>
  <p>
    <em>"Wake up, Lutz!"</em>
  </p>
  <p>Gilbert's voice was loud and far too bright for this hour. Gilbert always slept in, so why was he so damn perky? On second thought, Gilbert probably hadn't actually been to sleep yet, and was still wide awake from his two night coke bender, the creep.</p>
  <p>
    <em> "Did ya hear?"</em>
  </p>
  <p>Obviously not.</p>
  <p>Before Ludwig could speak, Gilbert chirped, <em>"People are pissed! Everyone is already calling for round four! I'm already getting calls from promoters. They wanna get you two up there again before the end of the year. They're talking double the money now! You get a second chance, you useless little shit—"</em></p>
  <p>"No," Ludwig immediately groaned, and hung up the phone.</p>
  <p>Absolutely not. This time, Ludwig meant it. Why bother fighting again? He had already bombed.</p>
  <p>If you didn't win, then you lost.</p>
  <p>Those were Magnus' first words to Ludwig, as soon as he had stopped screaming. And then Magnus had gone on a very long tirade about how useless Ludwig was (again), before he had been distracted by the reporters.</p>
  <p>Ludwig had tried to slink away from him, and had only wound up in a worse spot, when he suddenly ran once more into Ivan.</p>
  <p>Ivan had rushed forward through the crowd, smiling, and Ludwig had felt alarmingly close to tears when Ivan embraced him and picked him clean up off the ground, shouting, "You were great! You're so good, I almost forgot!"</p>
  <p>Words he needed to hear, but from the wrong person.</p>
  <p>Ivan had set Ludwig back down, cameras flashed all over, and Ludwig had stared at Ivan, stared and stared, because he <em>missed</em> Ivan and knew that this would be the last time he ever saw him.</p>
  <p>Ivan had come to wish him luck, and wouldn't hang around.</p>
  <p>What Ivan had said then, though...</p>
  <p>Nothing had ever hurt like that.</p>
  <p>Ivan had grabbed his hands, pulled him in, came far too close to his face, and said, breathlessly, "Come with me! Please— Come to America with me. Please, I miss you <em>so </em>much, please come with me."</p>
  <p>Ludwig had stared up at him in despair, eyes stinging and watering, and then Ludwig had dumbly looked around for Timo to come and save him again.</p>
  <p>But that time Timo didn't.</p>
  <p>Gilbert and Magnus were nowhere to be seen, complaining to the reporters.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was on his own, far too close to tears, and he swore that the rest of his heart broke there in his chest when he sucked in a breath and pulled his hands out of Ivan's and took a step back. A bleary, mournful stare, at the man he still loved, and then Ludwig shook his head and whined, pitifully, "I can't. I can't."</p>
  <p>He turned around and fled in a fit of cowardice, before Ivan could speak again.</p>
  <p>Ludwig left Ivan behind, even though it killed him to do so, because he couldn't go.</p>
  <p>Ludwig had run out of the arena, hailed the closest taxi, and left Gilbert and Magnus there, running to the hotel to hide away from the world. Had managed only to lock the door behind him before he burst into tears and collapsed onto the bed.</p>
  <p>Seeing Ivan had been wondrous, and horrendous.</p>
  <p>He was working so hard to forget Ivan, to distance himself, to get rid of those feelings, and seeing him again out of nowhere like that had still made Ludwig's heart race. Stupid. That elation hurt, because he couldn't act on it.</p>
  <p>Ludwig hid away in his room all night, and here yet he rested, busted up and alone, in pain physically and emotionally, as Gilbert and Magnus partied.</p>
  <p>He felt defeated. Dismal. Dreary. Lethargic. Numb, in some way.</p>
  <p>Ludwig just wanted to lie in bed forever, huddled under the blankets and away from the world. Overwhelmed and powerless. Helpless.</p>
  <p>Everything was falling apart.</p>
  <p>Gilbert had relapsed, Magnus was disappointed, Ivan had broken Ludwig's heart, and Timo had broken whatever little bit of spirit Ludwig had left.</p>
  <p>He hadn't been able to win. He had been given another chance, and had blown it, as always. A perpetual failure. Ludwig just wasn't ever good enough, so why bother getting out of bed?</p>
  <p>He fully intended to lie there all day and stare despondently out of the window, as Ivan was so close in this city and yet always just out of reach.</p>
  <p>He couldn't go, however much he missed Ivan. They had tried, gave it everything they had, and it hadn't worked out. There was no point in trying again, because Magnus was right; anyone would have left Ludwig. Ivan was only a man, not a saint, and Ludwig couldn't do anything right.</p>
  <p>Ivan was gone, and that was all.</p>
  <p>Rain fell.</p>
  <p>A knock, suddenly, on his hotel room door.</p>
  <p>Ludwig didn't get up at first, lost in space, dejected and wallowing in misery, as the rain pounded away on the window.</p>
  <p>Another knock.</p>
  <p>Ludwig inhaled, came to, and begrudgingly tumbled out of the bed, sore and cut up and in incredible pain. He staggered over, undid the chain, and pulled open the door, expecting to see Magnus or Gilbert rolling back in from their night on the town. But it wasn't either one of them. Wasn't Timo, either. Wasn't Ivan.</p>
  <p>A man that Ludwig recognized, but one he didn't truly know.</p>
  <p>Timo's manager. The Swede that Magnus had crassly insulted.</p>
  <p>He was dressed professionally, but also very messily, hair sticking out and uncombed, tie loose under his unbuttoned collar and jacket wrinkled. Most noticeable about him, however, was the huge bouquet of flowers he was holding.</p>
  <p>Ludwig gawked at him, and was pretty sure there had been some great misunderstanding and that Timo's manager was very much in the wrong place.</p>
  <p>"Hey!" the man began, quite eagerly, voice gruff and thick and yet quite excited. "Great job up there yesterday! Yer better in person than I ever thought ya'd be! These are for you."</p>
  <p>The flowers were shoved in Ludwig's hands, forcibly, and the huge bastard gave Ludwig a long look over and smiled away.</p>
  <p>...okay. Right. Um.</p>
  <p>Not in the wrong place, after all, but Ludwig was no less befuddled.</p>
  <p>"Thank you," Ludwig uttered, politely, because what else could he do?</p>
  <p>The Swede reached forward very abruptly, well into Ludwig's personal space, and gently prodded at his black eye, still very swollen shut. Ludwig leaned back a bit, instinctively, but couldn't escape those long arms or big hands, and the man uttered, "That's pretty bad. Aren't ya icin' it? Ya should take better care of yourself. Yer cuts aren't even patched up." A hand grabbed Ludwig's chin and forcibly turned his head this way and that like Ludwig had just discovered his long lost mother, as Timo's manager inspected the damage his prizewinner had inflicted.</p>
  <p>Funny—it should have been Gilbert and Magnus that had patched up Ludwig last night, and instead they had abandoned Ludwig in a second to go roll around in bars. Ivan would have done it, no doubt, had Ludwig not run away from him, but it still should have been more important to Gilbert, of all people. Ludwig lied alone in his hotel room, busted up and in pain, as Gilbert leaned over a dirty bathroom sink in some club and split his cocaine with Magnus.</p>
  <p>Instead, it was Timo's manager fussing over him.</p>
  <p>And then that absolute weirdo reached into his own pocket, fumbled around, and pulled out a band-aid. Dumbfounded and probably still slow in the head from being punched around, Ludwig could only stand deathly still as the Swede placed the band-aid on a cut over his nose.</p>
  <p>How...sweet?</p>
  <p>Timo's manager was strange.</p>
  <p>Reminded Ludwig a little of Ivan, though, honestly, in his scary size and stature and yet tranquil air. One of those giant bears of men who were actually teddy bears, caring and doting despite how frightening they looked.</p>
  <p>A pang of sadness.</p>
  <p>And then Ludwig remembered Gilbert's words, and sighed a little.</p>
  <p>The Swede needed him alive and well to fight Timo one more time and get them a winner and immoral amounts of money. Right.</p>
  <p>"Look," he began, as he shifted the flowers from one arm to the other, "I don't know what Timo's sayin', but it's...a little soon for me. I need some more time to think about it before I commit to anything."</p>
  <p>The huge blond stared him down, as unblinkingly as ever, and said, "Sure. Of course. Maybe it was too soon."</p>
  <p>Ludwig assumed that they were on the same page and talking about the same thing, and so he said, "Great. Thanks. Um—I'll be in touch then. Just give me some time. Alright?"</p>
  <p>The Swede perked up, stood up tall and confident, and smiled, just a little. Ludwig didn't really know what that look was about, and shifted anxiously. He assumed that would be the end of it, and waited in awkward silence.</p>
  <p>But the Swede just stood there, and stared.</p>
  <p>...right.</p>
  <p>Ludwig cleared his throat a bit, and out of anxiety asked, "What was your name?"</p>
  <p>The blond smiled again, a little wider, and gruffly offered, "Berwald."</p>
  <p>"Berwald. Alright. Um. So, I gotta...go. We'll talk more about it later."</p>
  <p>The Swede, Berwald, nodded his head, seemed so pleased, and then turned on his heel and walked off down the hall. Ludwig watched him go, crept back inside and shut the door, and threw himself back down on the bed, flowers there beside of him.</p>
  <p>Oh, god, <em>Timo</em>—he was so <em>sore</em>. This was some bullshit. It had been a long damn time since he had been beaten so senseless.</p>
  <p>He cracked open his good eye, and gazed at the flowers.</p>
  <p>That was kinda nice, if he were honest. Ivan had frequently shown up randomly with flowers, and regaining a bit of that nostalgia was a boost to his mood that Ludwig desperately needed.</p>
  <p>Ludwig stared at the flowers for a good long while, and that numb daze of lethargy slowly started fading.</p>
  <p>Magnus had said, 'You can't just stop'.</p>
  <p>Couldn't stop, not now. May not have had anything to look forward to, but he couldn't just stop.</p>
  <p>He turned his head, and watched the rain pouring outside.</p>
  <p>The sound of it was comforting in a way, however dreary it was.</p>
  <p>Couldn't stop.</p>
  <p>Sometime in the late morning, as the rain hammered yet away, Gilbert and Magnus came tumbling back into the hotel, high as kites and laughing, chatting, jittery and energetic and looking so happy, even though Ludwig had lost.</p>
  <p>They had been furious the night before, but millions of Euros was enough to brighten even the most banged up egos. Also cocaine. Cocaine helped out with a man's ego, if Gilbert's constant smirking was any indication.</p>
  <p>Ludwig had pulled himself out of bed by then, spurred on by those flowers (which he had placed in a cup on the desk), and had tended at last to his cuts and bruises, as the Swede had wished.</p>
  <p>Gilbert banged his fist down on Ludwig's door, and when Ludwig crankily opened it, Gilbert wrapped an arm around Ludwig's neck and throttled him harshly, making Ludwig wince in pain, and Gilbert used his other hand to slap Ludwig's chest. His pupils were dilated, his hair messy, amped up and rowdy, and Magnus came in right behind, looking identical.</p>
  <p>"Good morning, Lutz," Gilbert said, very quickly, stammering a bit, as he kissed Ludwig's cheek. "Thank you for the fun night. It was your dime, after all."</p>
  <p>Ludwig squirmed out of Gilbert's grasp as Magnus and Gilbert erupted into laughter, sounding far too much like hyenas, and Ludwig quickly attempted to silence them before they got kicked out.</p>
  <p>Magnus went straight to the bathroom, turned on the cold water in the sink, and doused his head beneath the tap as if he were on fire. If the blazing heat emanating from Gilbert was any indication, he probably felt as if he was. Magnus was a recreational drug user, not an addict like Gilbert, and only broke out the hard stuff on very special occasions. He needed much less than Gilbert to get that same high, and Gilbert might have goaded him just a bit too much.</p>
  <p>Ludwig tying with Timo must have been one of those 'special occasions'.</p>
  <p>Magnus sure had gotten over his disappointment quickly enough.</p>
  <p>Christ, couldn't imagine how their night would have gone if Ludwig had won. Woulda overdosed probably, one or both of them.</p>
  <p>Gilbert kept on hugging Ludwig, slapping his back, jostling him, tussling his hair, kissing his cheek, and the entire while he was talking a mile a minute, so fast Ludwig couldn't really understand most of what he was saying. Talking about everything and nothing, and Ludwig knew that Gilbert was already planning the next fight with Timo.</p>
  <p>Once more, Gilbert and Magnus didn't stop to ask Ludwig what <em>he</em> wanted.</p>
  <p>Ludwig stood there, stupidly, because he was too upset and disheartened to really even bother trying to get out of Gilbert's arms. He had worked so hard to get himself out of bed, and Gilbert just made him want to go crawl right back under those blankets.</p>
  <p>Magnus came stumbling out of the bathroom, hair and shirt soaked, and he looked around in a moment of utter bewilderment, shocked by the cold water, before he turned to Gilbert and asked, with a slur, "Did I— Did I snort coke off a hooker's back?"</p>
  <p>"Yeah," Gilbert drawled, as Ludwig squirmed out from under his arm at last. "It was awesome. Lutz, ya shoulda come with us."</p>
  <p>Ludwig looked back and forth between high and higher, and, just as he had that awful day in the practice ring, Ludwig couldn't explain why he hung his head and dissolved into tears.</p>
  <p>Every time he built himself up, one of these two brought him crashing back down.</p>
  <p>Gilbert had completely relapsed, and Ludwig felt culpable for that.</p>
  <p>If he were better, if he could have won—</p>
  <p>Gilbert shook him, seemed startled, and sputtered, "Are ya— Are ya fuckin' crying? Knock it off. What's the matter with you? You sucked, but so what? We got the money, you bastard! And you get another chance! This time, maybe you'll actually be worth somethin' and win!"</p>
  <p>Magnus laughed, loudly, and when Gilbert started giggling, Ludwig pushed Gilbert off of him and stalked away. They didn't follow him, sitting down at the table and laughing to each other, and Ludwig grabbed his phone and locked himself in the bathroom.</p>
  <p>Ludwig, still crying pitifully as he was, called Timo then, because he didn't know what else to <em>do </em>and Timo was the only friend he really had.</p>
  <p>He was too proud to call Ivan.</p>
  <p>Timo picked up immediately, and said, <em>"What's up? How ya feeling?"</em></p>
  <p>Ludwig sobbed, pathetically, and whined, "Timo— Can I come over to your place? I can't stay here. Please."</p>
  <p>Timo was very quick to say, urgently, <em>"Yeah. Of course. I'll text you the address. Or do you want me to come get you? Are you alright?"</em></p>
  <p>"I'm fine," Ludwig grumbled. "Really. I'll come over. You don't have to come out."</p>
  <p>
    <em> "I'll be here."</em>
  </p>
  <p>Ludwig hung up, wiped his good eye, and crept out. Gilbert and Magnus were jabbering away to each other, gesturing wildly and laughing, and they were so cranked up and excited with each other that they didn't even notice Ludwig when he stalked right by them and out into the rain.</p>
  <p>Ludwig must have looked pitiful, walking through the London streets in that downpour, soaking wet and shivering, as he followed directions in a desperate attempt to find a little bit of comfort.</p>
  <p>As always, Ludwig ran into his enemy's arms, when the people who should have cared about him the most fell short.</p>
  <p>When Ludwig was on the street of Timo's hotel, he glanced up, and saw two familiar faces. Timo and his manager, waiting outside the hotel for him. Timo's manager was holding an umbrella, as Timo popped up on his toes to scour the streets. Ah, hell, those bastards, that made him feel <em>so </em>much better, and Ludwig sped up and jogged over to them. Timo saw him coming, and ran over to close the gap, his manager hot on his heels.</p>
  <p>Berwald, or whoever, ran so quickly that he skidded to a halt on the wet sidewalk and nearly face-planted.</p>
  <p>Timo snatched Ludwig's arm, dragged him into the hotel, and led him wordlessly inside and into the elevator. Ludwig was dripping all over the place, and must have looked pathetic. The Swede looked alarmed, hassled, harried, and was leaning forward very frequently to observe Ludwig as if he was worried Ludwig had been shot or something.</p>
  <p>It wasn't until they were in Timo's hotel room that Timo finally spoke, as he pushed Ludwig down on the bed, wet as he was.</p>
  <p>"What's wrong? What happened? Did Ivan say something?"</p>
  <p>Ludwig shook his head, and suddenly felt so stupid.</p>
  <p>So stupid.</p>
  <p>Timo sat down beside of him, threw an arm over his shoulders, and gave him a gentle shake, as the Swede sidestepped to and fro in front of Ludwig, apparently too worried to sit still but also too nervous to actually open his mouth. He did, however, run to fetch a towel, and handed it out to Ludwig.</p>
  <p>Ludwig tried to dry off as best he could, as Timo hung over him.</p>
  <p>Timo was a good friend, thankfully, and was patient with dumbass Ludwig as Ludwig ran a palm over his face, and then begrudgingly admitted, in a deep whisper, "Gilbert's using again."</p>
  <p>Timo didn't look surprised at all, and maybe Timo had already known, because Gilbert had been high all night at the arena.</p>
  <p>Sure enough, Timo just lifted his chin and gave a deep 'Hm!', as he gave Ludwig a shake.</p>
  <p>Ludwig hung his head, and felt like a scared little kid again, helpless as he watched Gilbert spiraling down. Gilbert had been on and off for years, but hadn't broken down like this and gone on a binge since Ludwig had been a child.</p>
  <p>His fault, really, because he caused Gilbert so much stress.</p>
  <p>Timo was quiet for a long time, as Berwald hovered there above, and then Timo reached up with his other hand and clapped it gently on Ludwig's chest.</p>
  <p>A low murmur.</p>
  <p>"Hey. It'll be alright. He got clean once. He can do it again. Alright? But whatever happens, you can't let it get you down."</p>
  <p>Timo was brave, confident, so sure of himself and very stoic. Ludwig's idol, but someone that Ludwig could never have truly hoped to emulate. He tried hard to be like Timo, and failed every single time, and that was why he was sniveling on Timo's damn hotel bed like a lost schoolboy.</p>
  <p>A movement before him, as Berwald knelt down to one knee on the floor in front of Ludwig, staring at him quite piercingly. Ludwig glanced up with his good eye, to see Berwald holding out a pack of tissues.</p>
  <p>Ludwig stared back, startled, and then he snorted and accepted them, as Timo finally smiled and dragged Ludwig into a one-armed embrace to ruffle his hair. Ludwig laughed a little, because he felt so ridiculous, and the mood was a little lighter.</p>
  <p>Berwald looked very concerned still, but Timo was smiling when Ludwig looked over at him fondly. He had come over here so these jerks would make him feel better, and that was a mission accomplished.</p>
  <p>Ludwig muttered, thickly, "Thanks."</p>
  <p>Timo winked, and slapped his back.</p>
  <p>"Don't mention it. I know your head is a wreck right now. After I spent all night punching it."</p>
  <p>Ludwig rammed his shoulder into Timo's, as he buried his face in one of the tissues, and Berwald knelt there yet on his knee, watching Ludwig very intensely. Ludwig wasn't sure if he was feeling protective or very annoyed, so he kept his eyes low and avoided meeting Berwald's gaze.</p>
  <p>How foolish he must have looked, coming over here crying.</p>
  <p>Timo stood up a while later, and said, "Let's go get something to eat. Alright?"</p>
  <p>Ludwig nodded, and let Timo lead him where he would, as Berwald trailed behind wordlessly and still seemed to be looking Ludwig over.</p>
  <p>Wasn't his proudest moment, but Ludwig was very happy to spend the rest of that day and night with his 'rival', as his brother fell apart. And the entire time, Berwald stared at Ludwig, without looking away, and yet didn't utter a word. If Berwald thought Ludwig pathetic, then he sure as hell didn't say it, and that was just good enough. Sleeping in Timo's bed was absurd, and also remarkably comforting.</p>
  <p>He just tried hard not to think of what Gilbert was doing, and the morning was grey and dreary. Fitting. Time to go get his stuff packed and go home, with no real victory under his belt.</p>
  <p>He felt as if he was leaving London with less hope and reason than he had had when he had arrived.</p>
  <p>Timo and Berwald walked Ludwig to his hotel, as if Ludwig were their kid or something, and that was embarrassing but also exactly what Ludwig really needed.</p>
  <p>As they parted ways, Berwald gave Ludwig a long study up and down, and Timo came forward. Ludwig immediately extended his hand, because Timo meant more to him that Ludwig could have ever put into words.</p>
  <p>Timo's pretty smile.</p>
  <p>Timo clasped his hand, shoved it back into Ludwig's chest, and suddenly Timo offered Ludwig a very rare moment of affection, using his other hand to clap Ludwig on the back of the neck and pull him into a full embrace.</p>
  <p>A whisper in his ear.</p>
  <p>"Whatever you need, man, you can <em>always </em>call me. I'm always here."</p>
  <p>A stupid, ridiculous watering of Ludwig's eyes, as the misery once more threatened to engulf him.</p>
  <p>He pulled it together quickly, gave Timo a squeeze, and rumbled, "Thanks."</p>
  <p>Timo patted his back, and went on his way.</p>
  <p>Ludwig watched him go, fondly, and snorted a little when Berwald stood up on his toes and waved goodbye to Ludwig in a very exuberant manner, smiling away.</p>
  <p>What a geek.</p>
  <p>...cute.</p>
  <p>Ludwig's eyes followed them until they were out of sight, and it was a strange mix of sadness and hope that he felt then. It was kinda sad, yeah, that his nemesis and his nemesis' manager were the most supportive people in Ludwig's life, but someone was better than no one, and Timo was always reliable. Ludwig would gladly lean upon them, if there was no one else. At least someone out there gave a damn about Ludwig, even if he wasn't up to standard.</p>
  <p>Magnus called Ludwig worthless, and Berwald had given him flowers.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Breathless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p>
    <strong>Chapter 9</strong>
  </p>
  <p>
    <strong>Breathless</strong>
  </p>
  <p>It was two days after the judges had handed Timo his ass when Timo's phone suddenly rang in the middle of the night.</p>
  <p>That was never good.</p>
  <p>He had just gotten home, it was his first night back in his own bed, and the damn phone was going off. Sometimes, Timo was pretty sure he was jinxed.</p>
  <p>Timo awoke with an inhale, reached out blindly for his phone, pulse pounding and eyes wide, terrorized in the middle of sleep-shock, because no one calling at—a glance at the time—three in the morning ever had something good to say.</p>
  <p>His immediate thought was that it was Ludwig, who might have been in trouble.</p>
  <p>Gilbert overdosing again—</p>
  <p>Timo answered the call, and rasped, in a panic, "What's wrong?"</p>
  <p>
    <em> "Timo!"</em>
  </p>
  <p>It was Berwald.</p>
  <p>Timo sat up at the waist, adrenaline rushing and feeling dizzy, and he asked, "What's happened?"</p>
  <p><em> "Timo," </em>Berwald began, very urgently, <em>"I gotta know— Is Blondie divorced?"</em></p>
  <p>Wha—<em>what</em>?</p>
  <p>Timo stared ahead in the dark at the wall, phone clenched in his hand, and felt utterly dumbfounded. What the hell? Had he heard that right?</p>
  <p>To clarify that his sleepy brain hadn't misheard some potential calamity, Timo rasped, "What about Blondie?"</p>
  <p>Berwald's voice was higher than usual, more alert, less thick and clumsy, when he repeated, <em>"Is Blondie divorced? All the way, ya know? Is he?"</em></p>
  <p>Timo lowered the phone from his ear, stared down at it, and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Un-fuckin'-believable. Timo lifted the phone back up, fell backwards onto the sheets, and griped, "Berwald, do you know what fuckin' time it is—"</p>
  <p><em> "Three sixteen," </em>Berwald obliviously and dutifully replied, voice still so breathy and eager. <em>"So! Is he? You two are friends."</em></p>
  <p>"You already know," Timo spat back, "You read the papers as much as me."</p>
  <p>
    <em> "Yeah, but is he divorced-divorced? They were together in the paper. He came to see Blondie fight. They hugged. So! Are they divorced? Like, 'I never wanna see ya again' divorced, or is it more like 'let's separate and get some time apart and then we'll work it out' divorced?"</em>
  </p>
  <p>Timo's palm fell atop his forehead and then ran down over his eyes, and all he said then was, "I'm hanging up, Berwald."</p>
  <p>
    <em> "No, wait—"</em>
  </p>
  <p>As an afterthought (if only to torment Ludwig), Timo did say, right on the brink, "He's divorced-divorced. And I'm gonna punch you when I see you again, asshole. Go ski right into a cunt!"</p>
  <p>He hung up, threw the phone aside, curled up in a ball, and cursed to himself as he tried to fall back asleep.</p>
  <p>He punched his pillow a few times, and pretended it was Berwald.</p>
  <p>Berwald was obsessed with Ludwig alright, and now was more worried about Ludwig than ever, after Ludwig's momentary breakdown. Berwald could have very easily been mistaken for Ludwig's mother, the way he was fretting now, and Timo was very, very close to letting Berwald have the begrudging bestowment of the word 'cute', but this was a few steps backwards.</p>
  <p>Calling him in the middle of the night and scaring the shit out of him was a strike for Berwald.</p>
  <p>Unbelievable.</p>
  <p>When the sun rose, Berwald called him again.</p>
  <p>Timo groaned, turned his phone completely off, and huddled under the blankets.</p>
  <p>Why? Why? Why him?</p>
  <p>Everyone around him was a complete and total asshole, and Timo hated them all. Just wanted to sleep, after his entire life had flashed before his eyes as Ludwig had pretended to be Ivan. Could still feel Ludwig's fist slamming into his head, he swore it, the way it was pounding.</p>
  <p>Several more restless hours later, Timo turned his phone back on, because he was paranoid that Ludwig would need to call him again.</p>
  <p>It wasn't Ludwig that had blown his phone up, though, when he finally looked down at it. There were many texts waiting for him, all of them from Berwald, and Timo sighed as he scrolled through them.</p>
  <p>One stood out to him.</p>
  <p>
    <em> 'Will you text Blondie and check on him?'</em>
  </p>
  <p>Berwald's concern was nice, yeah, and Ludwig kinda did need someone in his life right now that would be there for him in a positive way. So Timo rolled his eyes, sighed dramatically, pulled his phone up and sent Ludwig a text to make sure the poor bastard was still alive and hadn't cried himself to death.</p>
  <p>Two minutes later, Ludwig sent Timo the 'all well'. Timo dutifully relayed the message to Berwald, so that Berwald wouldn't continue annihilating Timo's phone.</p>
  <p>It worked.</p>
  <p>Until night came, and then Berwald texted him again.</p>
  <p>
    <em>'Is Blondie still alright?'</em>
  </p>
  <p>Timo buried his face in his hands, groaned, and very much contemplated giving Berwald Ludwig's number. Then Berwald could torment Ludwig directly, without the middleman. But Timo didn't, in the end, because Berwald was Timo's manager and therefore Timo's responsibility. It shouldn't have been Ludwig's duty to put up with Berwald.</p>
  <p>Timo did wonder if perhaps Ludwig might have enjoyed someone hovering over him and coddling him and worshipping the ground he walked on. The kid needed someone like that, especially now with Gilbert falling back into his old bad habits.</p>
  <p>Berwald and Ludwig.</p>
  <p>How...quaint.</p>
  <p>Timo had long suspected that Berwald had been in love with him, and he was pretty sure now that Berwald was interested in Ludwig in that same fervent manner. Ludwig was as straight as the orbit of a planet, yeah, but Timo had never had actual proof about Berwald. The more he thought about it, though, well.</p>
  <p>Berwald was <em>Swedish</em>. 'Course he was gay, the bastard.</p>
  <p>Timo hadn't ever been much interested in playing matchmaker before, but this one was tempting. Two birds with one stone, after all; get Berwald out of his hair for good and give Ludwig a little boost of confidence.</p>
  <p>Timo asked Ludwig again how he was doing, and if Ludwig thought that Timo was overbearing or worrying too much, then he didn't say it, replying just as quickly as before. Timo went to bed, and Berwald had the good sense not to call him in a panic in the middle of the night because he couldn't sleep.</p>
  <p>In the morning, however, Timo did receive a call. By then, Timo was very sick of seeing Berwald's name on his screen.</p>
  <p>When Timo answered, Berwald said something quite shocking :</p>
  <p>
    <em> "Can you come over to my place? I need some help carryin' a couple a' things."</em>
  </p>
  <p>Timo's mouth fell open, he sputtered, rolled his eyes, and finally conceded, "Alright, fine. I owe you a punch. That's the only reason I'm coming."</p>
  <p>Unfazed, Berwald chirped, <em>"Thanks!"</em></p>
  <p>Timo hung up, grimaced in disgust, got dressed, and the next thing he knew he was very crankily driving through the snow to Berwald's house, cursing endlessly to himself as he took swigs of beer in between.</p>
  <p>Berwald was huge; couldn't he manage carrying things on his own?</p>
  <p>When Timo skidded into Berwald's driveway, an hour later, Berwald was standing out on the porch, a massive box sitting there beside him. A few more boxes were off to the side, and Timo chugged the rest of his beer before he stepped out into the slush.</p>
  <p>Berwald gave him a quick wave, and Timo stomped up, and said, "Hold still. I'm going to punch you."</p>
  <p>Berwald straightened up, and stood very obediently still, face very serious and jaw clenched. Timo drew back his fist, and it was only because Berwald didn't flinch or jump that Timo cursed and punched Berwald's chest instead. The jerk; couldn't really break his nose like that. If Berwald had braced up, Timo woulda knocked his block off.</p>
  <p>Really.</p>
  <p>...Ludwig wouldn't care, just yet, if Timo punched Berwald in the face. Should probably do it now, before Berwald became the next husband, because then Berwald was off limits unless Timo wanted Finn v. Blondie 4.</p>
  <p>And he didn't want that, thanks a bunch. He was just fine.</p>
  <p>Berwald smiled suddenly, as he rubbed absently at his chest, and then he said, "Mind givin' me a hand?"</p>
  <p>He turned his head a bit to the boxes, as Timo observed Berwald's house. A small little wooden home, deep back in the woods, north of Tampere. Berwald had moved to Finland when he took over management of Timo, and clearly he was pretty keen on privacy, because he lived in the middle of actual nowhere with no neighbors in sight.</p>
  <p>In that, Berwald and Timo actually had something in common.</p>
  <p>"What's in it for me?" Timo asked, hands on hips, and Berwald lifted his chin.</p>
  <p>"Mm... I got a lotta scotch that the promoters keep sendin' me—"</p>
  <p>"Say no more," Timo grunted, as he darted over and grabbed the edge of a box. Berwald trotted happily over, and together they lifted the box up and began hauling it clumsily inside.</p>
  <p>It was the first time that Timo had ever gone into Berwald's home. Kinda strange. Timo would have dropped dead before setting foot in here had Berwald still been chasing him, but now that Berwald was hopelessly infatuated with Ludwig, Timo didn't see the harm.</p>
  <p>They hauled the heavy box in, grunted as they set it down, and Timo clapped his hands to look around the wooden home.</p>
  <p>Quaint. Pretty small, considering that Berwald was by no means hurting for money. Very bare, kinda dusty, a little drab. Berwald wasn't exactly a decorator, and clearly fell well into his native country's love of minimalism. Just a dull-colored couch in front of a fireplace, a clock on the wall, a bookshelf with no books, and a little fur rug.</p>
  <p>Hm.</p>
  <p>...Berwald really needed a housewife.</p>
  <p>Timo had one in mind, as Berwald clearly did, too.</p>
  <p>With a sigh, Timo turned back to Berwald, who was on his knees and opening up the huge box to pull out smaller boxes. Timo realized it was a bed frame, and he asked, curiously, "What are you up to?"</p>
  <p>Without looking up, Berwald offered, "Settin' up a guestroom."</p>
  <p>Oh.</p>
  <p>Timo looked around at the very, very, very bare house, didn't really sense the presence of any visitors, past or present (ever), and next asked, "How come?"</p>
  <p>A guestroom for who? Because there sure as hell wasn't anyone aside from Berwald setting foot in this house, and Timo was pretty sure Berwald didn't actually have any family. Had always only ever seen him alone.</p>
  <p>But Berwald pulled himself to his feet, met Timo's eyes, and so very seriously said, "In case Blondie ever needs somewhere to run to again."</p>
  <p>Timo stared at Berwald, taken aback and somewhat breathless. His lips had parted in his shock, but Berwald just turned his attention back down to the boxes, as Timo gazed at him. Couldn't really describe so well what he felt then, as he watched that dumb son of a bitch start trying to haul those boxes upstairs. For some odd reason, Timo thought he felt kinda sad then, out of nowhere. A little twinge of adrenaline, twisting his stomach. Could never have said why, exactly, and how it had been Berwald of all people to make him feel that way.</p>
  <p>The entire notion was just so...<em>sweet</em>, he supposed, that it had brought up that sadness because Berwald was still able to do kind things without expecting anything in return, and Timo actually dreaded it not really working out the way he wanted.</p>
  <p>Ludwig was a good guy, his friend, and it meant a lot to Timo that Berwald was doing this, even if Ludwig would never know in the end.</p>
  <p>Timo finally came out of his stupor and darted forward to give Berwald a hand before the dummy broke his neck, and that was how Timo spent the rest of his day, helping Berwald put together a bed frame, and then haul up a little dresser.</p>
  <p>It was bizarre and surreal, and Timo spent a good deal of time glancing over at intent Berwald, who was extremely focused on his tasks. If there was one thing a Swede was good for, it was putting together furniture, Timo supposed, and Berwald did excel at that.</p>
  <p>Come nightfall, Berwald's odd guestroom had a ready bed, a dresser, an end table, a little bookshelf, a chair, and a mirror.</p>
  <p>Berwald looked around the room when they were finished, and it was clear from his bristling that he was quite pleased with himself.</p>
  <p>Timo took a gander around, and figured that Ludwig might have actually been a little comfortable in this room, even though it was small and not so colorful.</p>
  <p>Berwald made a noise of approval, and smiled.</p>
  <p>Timo rolled his eyes, shook his head, felt utterly and completely exasperated, but at the same time he thought he felt himself smiling, just a little. Hard not to, when Berwald was puffed out like a peacock, hands on his hips and looking very proudly around his little house that he was apparently trying to turn into a marital home, if only subconsciously.</p>
  <p>A little hideaway for Ludwig, when the world outside was too harsh.</p>
  <p>Too bad Ludwig didn't really know Berwald existed.</p>
  <p>Berwald was a dope, but a sweet one. Certainly dreamed big, the bastard, considering that he hadn't even really talked to Ludwig yet.</p>
  <p>Timo's face softened a little, his brow came up, and that was the very first time in their long years together that Timo had felt anything remotely close to affection for Berwald.</p>
  <p>...yuck. Time to get the hell outta here.</p>
  <p>Timo walked over, clapped Berwald's arm, and uttered, "Looks good. Where's my scotch?"</p>
  <p>Berwald led Timo down into the kitchen, opened up a cabinet, and Timo swore he saw the heavens open up when he was greeted with bottle after bottle of extremely expensive scotch.</p>
  <p>Berwald offered, "Take yer pick."</p>
  <p>Well! If Berwald insisted.</p>
  <p>Timo shuffled through the lot, picked the most expensive one because he was an asshole and Berwald clearly wasn't drinking this stuff, and then he took one more because he had not been given a limit. He gave Berwald a sarcastic two-fingered salute as he said, "Nice doing business with you. Call me again if you need help with something else."</p>
  <p>Timo couldn't say if he was so eager for the payment of scotch, or because this entire damn thing was disgustingly adorable. Eh, call it both.</p>
  <p>The drive back home was much more content, and there was a slight possibility that Timo may have been inebriated by the time he got home, and one of the bottles may have been half empty. But no one could prove that, so Timo just parked crookedly and stumbled inside his house, plopping down on his couch and pulling out his phone.</p>
  <p>It was only because he was tipsy that he texted Ludwig, vaguely saying, <em>'If you ever need to get away from Gilbert, I have a room here ready for you.</em>'</p>
  <p>Just didn't say in whose house, precisely.</p>
  <p>Timo snickered to himself, took another swig of scotch, and felt like a devious matchmaker indeed, despite him being unkempt and half in the bag as he lied on his couch in his socks.</p>
  <p>Ludwig, the clueless fool, just responded with a gushing, <em>'Thank you. You're a good friend, jerk.'</em></p>
  <p>Yes. Yes he was. He was also a good matchmaker, despite having only become one about eighteen hours ago.</p>
  <p>Timo had limitless confidence.</p>
  <p>Or for the most part he did, anyway, but Timo could very easily say that his drunk heart started trotting when he received another text an hour later, and it was not from Ludwig nor from Berwald. An unknown number, and Timo glanced at the start of the message on the screen and saw enough to momentarily panic.</p>
  <p>The world was spinning a little, mostly from the scotch, but also a little because the text was from someone Timo was very much interested in being a, er, Ludwig for.</p>
  <p>Magnus.</p>
  <p>Timo bolted upright at the waist, lowered his phone for a second to gather his courage, took a deep breath, and then read the text in full.</p>
  <p>
    <em> 'This is Magnus. Got your number from Lutz' phone when he wasn't looking. Call me. Have something important to discuss.'</em>
  </p>
  <p>Timo's heart was pounding, from that thrill of the unknown, and he forced himself to put his phone aside. Didn't wanna call too soon and seem desperate. Had too much pride for that.</p>
  <p>How long was not too long? Timo glanced restlessly at the clock, foot swaying away in the air as he tried to watch the television but kept on looking instead at his phone. Five minutes. Ten. Eleven.</p>
  <p>Twelve. Twelve was good! That was enough.</p>
  <p>Timo took a deep breath, pressed the number, and dialed.</p>
  <p>Magnus answered on the second ring, likely expecting Timo.</p>
  <p>
    <em> "Hello?"</em>
  </p>
  <p>"It's Finn," Timo said, in what he wanted to be a commanding voice but instead just came out as a slurred grunt. Not a good first impression. "What do ya want?"</p>
  <p><em> "That was fast," </em>Magnus drawled, arrogantly. <em>"You got the hots for me or something?"</em></p>
  <p>Fuck, fuck, fuck—</p>
  <p>"What do you want?"</p>
  <p>Magnus snorted, and uttered, <em>"Testy! You're just like Lutz, alright."</em></p>
  <p>For that gorgeous asshole, he would be.</p>
  <p>Erhm—</p>
  <p>"I'm hanging up if you don't tell me what you want right now," Timo bitched, to sound more in charge than he may actually have been.</p>
  <p>
    <em> "Chill out! You ain't got nothin' better to do than talk to me."</em>
  </p>
  <p>"False," Timo grumbled, though it was not.</p>
  <p>
    <em> "Whatever. I want you to come to Germany. In two days. I need to have a talk with you."</em>
  </p>
  <p>"About what?"</p>
  <p>Timo sat up ever straighter, making himself dizzy in the process, and felt far too warm. Coulda been the alcohol, maybe, but Magnus' voice was actually very nice to listen to.</p>
  <p>
    <em> "That's classified. Just get down here. You don't have anything going on. I'll make it worth your while."</em>
  </p>
  <p>Because he was kinda drunk, Timo was bold enough to ask, "Are you hitting on me?"</p>
  <p><em> "You'd like that, wouldn't'cha?" </em>Magnus crooned, and Timo was not quite drunk enough to open his mouth and affirm that. Before he could come up with a retort, Magnus carried on, <em>"Look, I got a lot to say. So come down. You ain't got nothin' to lose. Just come hear me out."</em></p>
  <p>Well...</p>
  <p>With a sigh, Timo swung his foot, and then finally relented.</p>
  <p>"Alright. Whatever. Guess I don't have anything better to do. I'm just coming down to have a drink with Ludwig. That's all. Don't get full of yourself."</p>
  <p>Far too late for that, obviously, but Magnus just made a noise of self-satisfaction, was probably smirking, and just said<em>, "We'll see, won't we? Two days. Until then, you can just dream about me."</em></p>
  <p>Jerk!</p>
  <p>Magnus hung up before Timo could speak, and Timo rolled his eyes to no one and leaned back into the couch. Man. Not exactly what he had expected, in some way. He had sort of hoped that Magnus' matter of importance would have involved Magnus wanting to come to Finland for a beer or two and then maybe a romp in the sauna or something, because Timo was only a man and could dream just as much as Berwald.</p>
  <p>Timo was absolutely <em>not</em> disappointed.</p>
  <p>No way. Really...</p>
  <p>Timo knew what Magnus wanted, even though he hadn't come out and said it, because Timo wasn't a fucking moron. It was very obvious that Magnus wanted a rematch (of the rematch), and Timo knew it, but, ah, hell. He had nothing else going for him, and maybe fighting Ludwig one more time would get promoters sending Berwald more scotch, which would eventually end up in Timo's hands. But he didn't have an alcohol problem.</p>
  <p>Besides! Fighting Ludwig again would also give Timo an excuse to throw Berwald right at Ludwig's chest and say, 'Here ya go. He's yours now.'</p>
  <p>That was a good reason, so Timo drunkenly dialed Berwald and said, with no context at all, "Pack up, man! We're going to Germany in the morning."</p>
  <p>Luckily, Berwald was a man simple enough to desire no context, and he immediately grunted, <em>"Okay!"</em></p>
  <p>Easy.</p>
  <p>Berwald was probably squealing already in excitement, thinking no doubt that he would get to see Blondie, and if Timo had his way, he would.</p>
  <p>So Timo just packed up come dawn, and looked forward to sticking out his leg and tripping dumbass Ludwig right into Berwald's ever-waiting arms. Hopefully at the same time he could flatter egotistical and hotheaded Magnus into his hotel room bed during the process.</p>
  <p>Just like Timo had said; two birds, one stone. One of the birds had just changed a little.</p>
  <p>So off to Germany Timo went.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Berwald is too pure for this world.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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